tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36633837918267422772024-03-13T16:49:42.650-07:00Narration : Short Stories by Mukund ThapliyalB S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-60959025727999211032017-06-18T01:30:00.002-07:002017-06-18T01:30:27.628-07:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
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<b><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">THE AGONY OF CLIPPING NAILS<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">General
Sundar Singh was old now; old enough to need help in most of his day to day activities.
He felt that nails grow faster in old days or was it so because he found it unwieldy
to clip his nails. He was not sure. The fact remained that he needed someone’s
help to clip his nails, particularly the toe nails. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He
also needed someone to operate a lift for him. He got confused over the
numerous buttons on the panel of a multi-storeyed building. He would often
press wrong buttons and get panicky when the lift stopped at unintended floors.
It embarrassed him when the other passengers in the lift stared at him. Back in
his room after the ordeal was over, he would often mumble within himself justifying
his own actions. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Not my fault; the
bloody ‘techies’ tend to make life complicated. </span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And
then he would grin inanely. But the fact was that on all such occasions he wished
some help arrived to bail him out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
old General had a granddaughter, Nandini.
By way of pleading, beseeching; sometimes happily and at times
grudgingly young Nandini would listen to him. And for that he placated her with
chocolates, snack packets, ice creams or small money at times. In fact, he was now quite adept in getting his
requests materialize. He fulfilled his side of deals in advance ensuring that Nandini
remained in good humour. However, it was very true that the General loved his
granddaughter dearly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Old
age showed on the General. Not many people are left now to talk of the charming
persona of his young age. But there are several pictures in his album, which show
him: tall, fair, lithe and handsome and his long flowing curls affirmed, he
must have been popular among the ladies. In fact, he was an adroit dancer
always favourite amongst the ladies as dancing partner. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Dancing
was Nandini’s hobby and she had joined a Western Dance school. She was tall, slim,
very agile and energetic and favourite of her dance teacher. Nandini was deeply
involved in her hobby and in fact, wanted to take it up as her career. Her
parents were not very happy over her choice for she was a bright student and
both her parents wanted her to go for higher studies. Moreover, the family had
limited income. Her mother was a housewife and her father because of his
physical disability could not excel in his life. He was an accountant in a
private firm. The family was dependent mostly on the fiscal support from the
General. Nandini’s mother wanted her to go
for a career in medicine or become a civil servant. It was General Singh who
persuaded her parents not to press the child against her wishes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“In
any case it is too early. She has still four years of regular schooling left.
Let her continue with her hobby so long as it does not affect her academic
performance and decide at the right moment,” the old patron was able to make Nandini’s
parents relent but with demur. Nandini knew it was because of her grandfather
that she was able to pursue her hobby and the fact that the old guard had
agreed to pay the fee for the dance classes too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After
nearly six months of joining the dancing classes, the dance school wanted to
make a ballet presentation before a national dance celebrity and wanted to give
a lead role to Nandini. Her choreographer considered her to be the best bet.
But there was a catch. The costume had to be provided by the parents and in
this case it cost a fortune. Nandini was reluctant to talk to her parents
because she was sure that her parents will never agree to bear the expense and
she was diffident to talk to her grandfather. The General could see his granddaughter
in a pensive mood and cajoled her to share her problem with him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Nandini
opened her heart to her grandfather. That it was a very important event, a rare
opportunity, which can be a breakthrough in her dancing career. The General
thought over for a few seconds and then asked Nandini.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“How
much is the cost of the costume.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Nandini
was diffident to mention it. She paused as the General looked in to her eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Grandfather!
It is fifteen thousand.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">General
Singh didn’t take much time in responding. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I
will pay it. Collect the cheque from me tomorrow before going to the dance
school.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Nandini
thanked the old man with a warm hug. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
programme was grand success. Lot of praise by the media and approbation by the
dance critiques. Nandini was the toast of her friends and the dance school. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">General
Singh was very happy for his granddaughter. Nandini but gave credit to her hard
work for her success. Soon event became a matter of past. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One
evening General Singh had to go to his regimental mess for a formal function.
He had been the Colonel Commandant of his regiment- a rare honour for any senior
officer. The General was very upset with
one of his toe nails. It had protruded awkwardly making it painful to wear his
shoes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He
called Nandini for help.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Grandpa,
please don’t disturb me. I am awfully busy. I have to get ready for a birthday
party.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Please
spare a minute. Just clip one of my toe nails. It is causing me too much of
trouble. Can’t put on my shoes and you know I have to go for an official
function.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“No
way today; I have to collect my new dress from the tailor. I am already very
late.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Nandini
sauntered away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">General
Singh sat motionless on his sofa with the nail clipper in his hand. His hands
were shaky whenever he tried to clip his nails but more problematic was to
reach the toe nails, which had become inaccessible after the paunch he had
developed in his old age.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">General
Sundar Singh was hurt. He remembered his childhood days. How they respected and
revered their elders. He fell in to a reverie. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sundar
Singh was born in a poor family but he was always proud of his lineage for his
grandfather was a renowned scholar who had served for a decade in the court of
the <i>Nawab</i> of Rampur. The old wizard was
respected by the <i>Nawab </i>and the
courtiers for his knowledge and wisdom though he was known to be whimsical and opium
addict.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Young
Sundar had spent most of his childhood in the company of his grandfather.
Sundar remembered his grandfather was a chronic arthritis patient. At times his
pain was unbearable and he would scream. Sundar Singh was always there on such moments;
giving him hot water fomentation, turmeric laced hot milk, making his <i>hookah</i> of opium fill and massaging his
aching bones for hours together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sundar
never thought of asking anything in return. On the contrary, his grandfather had
become senile and developed an acerbic tongue. More often than not, he would
curse Sundar for being lax. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You
are the lousiest bum I have ever come across,” he would whine. Sundar would
simply smile and continue with his work. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When
the old man knew that the end was nearing, he called all his folks around him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I
leave no wealth or property for you other than an invaluable jewel in Sundar. He
will take care of the family. He served me with exemplary dedication. God will reward
him and you all will be rewarded through him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sundar
came over to Delhi for his schooling. He was a bright student and at the end of
his schooling, he qualified the entrance examination of the National Defence
Academy, Poona. He was a conscientious cadet who worked hard and passed out of
the Academy with honours. After a year’s training in the Indian Military
Academy, Dehradun, he was commissioned in the Armoured Corps as Second Lieutenant.
A couple of years later Captain Sundar married a beautiful girl; the daughter
of his General Officer Commanding.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
unfortunate turn in his life came when a son with spinal deformity was born to
them. The doctors were unsure if it was
advisable to go for a second child. Sundar and his wife also decided not to go
for a second child. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Years
rolled on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sundar
Singh rose to be a Lieutenant General and retired with battle honours and commendations
galore.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He
felt nostalgic as he remembered his days with his grandfather. The contrast
between the bonding he had with his grandfather and Nandini, his granddaughter Nandini
dawned on him. He recalled number of occasions when his grandfather would send
him on an errand asking to run to the place and he would obey the old man
meticulously. And yet, at the end the day, the old man would call him clumsy. Still, notwithstanding the admonishment from
his grandfather, young Sundar would be ever ready to do anything his
grandfather. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">General
Singh came out of the reverie. He was saddened by the behaviour of his
granddaughter. He just wanted a minute of her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He
threw the nail clipper away. The soldier in him would not let him dither from
his responsibilities. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“What
the hell. Pain or no pain, I am going ahead; can’t let down my regiment,” he grimaced
as he put on his shoes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-31071589210127108432017-05-18T01:11:00.000-07:002017-05-18T01:11:19.880-07:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">AN
UNFINISHED STORY<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I had become a regular to the city park.
Not that I was an early riser and fond of morning walk but that my blood sugar had
shot up in spite of insulin jabs twice a day. My physician had therefore suggested
‘morning walk’ at least five days a week.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “You
must walk at least 5 kilometres every day. That is the only way to manage your
sugar level.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was a Doctor’s order. Couldn’t
be defied. I accepted it even if grudgingly. In implementing this regimen, my wife
Malini played a major role. She would coax him out of bed at five in the morning
and place my walking kit before me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Have
at least five rounds of the park, you lousy bum.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> I started
following the regimen reluctantly but gradually I started liking it. The lab
tests were encouraging. My sugar level had come down; I was elated by the
results. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There were young, middle, past
middle and old age people in the park. A few jogged, some walked briskly,
others walked and some rambled leisurely; everyone to his own comfort level. Some
of the ‘walkers’ listened to music with earphones plugged in; the elderly few
had walking sticks to steady their walking. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> A
week later I noticed an elderly person walking with a middle age lady. They too
were regular. The old man and the lady would take two rounds of the park. Then the
old man would sit on a bench and read newspaper and the lady would plug in her
earphones and start jogging. I observed that the lady took five to six rounds non-stop
and every time she passed by the old man, she would whisper something to him. The
old man would nod his head and gesture her to continue. I was curious to find
out about the odd couple. One day I stopped by the old man and wished him. The latter
simply nodded his head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I am Professor Arvind, have started
coming to the park recently.” I said extending my hand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The old man stared at me and after
a long awkward pause whispered, “Prof Ankit Shukla, years back taught Chemistry
in Hindu College.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I taught History in Government College,
Patiala. Have shifted to Delhi recently,”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Thereafter we two often met in the park;
exchanged niceties but there was no word about the lady accompanying the old
man. I deemed it proper to let the matter rest at that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Come over to my place sometime. We
can chat over coffee,” the elderly professor suggested one day giving out his
address to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Even though we belonged to
different disciplines, we blended well. In short, we became good friends and at
times we stealthily managed beer sessions.
We discussed world events, the contemporary scientific developments
world over and local politics. We spoke on various matters including increasing
number of divorces and modern cult of ‘live-in’ but never spoke about the lady
who chaperoned Professor Shukla. I understood that he was cagey about it and I
thought it proper to leave the matter to his judgement. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One afternoon when we were having
beer, Professor Shukla became emotional. It was the death anniversary of his wife. It
is then that he started narrating his story to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">II<i><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I
was the Head of Department of Chemistry of Hindu College. There I met Ananya,
the lady you see with me in the park. She was newly appointed as lecturer and
was doing her PhD under my guidance. Ananya was a diligent and conscientious
tutor with commendable academic profile. Her students respected her, which you
would appreciate was no mean testimonial for a young lecturer. I was also pleased
to get laudable feedback from her peers.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I
was a married person, happy with my wife and two grown up children. Life was smooth
and normal. Ananya sometimes came to my place. She was quite friendly with my
children but my wife Malini kept a distance from her. An</span></i><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><i>AN UNFINISHED STORY</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>I had become a regular to the city park. Not that I was an early riser and fond of morning walk but that my blood sugar had shot up in spite of insulin jabs twice a day. My physician had therefore suggested ‘morning walk’ at least five days a week.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You must walk at least 5 kilometres every day. That is the only way to manage your sugar level.” </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>It was a Doctor’s order. Couldn’t be defied. I accepted it even if grudgingly. In implementing this regimen, my wife Malini played a major role. She would coax him out of bed at five in the morning and place my walking kit before me.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Have at least five rounds of the park, you lousy bum.” </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I started following the regimen reluctantly but gradually I started liking it. The lab tests were encouraging. My sugar level had come down; I was elated by the results. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>There were young, middle, past middle and old age people in the park. A few jogged, some walked briskly, others walked and some rambled leisurely; everyone to his own comfort level. Some of the ‘walkers’ listened to music with earphones plugged in; the elderly few had walking sticks to steady their walking. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A week later I noticed an elderly person walking with a middle age lady. They too were regular. The old man and the lady would take two rounds of the park. Then the old man would sit on a bench and read newspaper and the lady would plug in her earphones and start jogging. I observed that the lady took five to six rounds non-stop and every time she passed by the old man, she would whisper something to him. The old man would nod his head and gesture her to continue. I was curious to find out about the odd couple. One day I stopped by the old man and wished him. The latter simply nodded his head. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>“I am Professor Arvind, have started coming to the park recently.” I said extending my hand. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>The old man stared at me and after a long awkward pause whispered, “Prof Ankit Shukla, years back taught Chemistry in Hindu College.” </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>“I taught History in Government College, Patiala. Have shifted to Delhi recently,”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Thereafter we two often met in the park; exchanged niceties but there was no word about the lady accompanying the old man. I deemed it proper to let the matter rest at that. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>“Come over to my place sometime. We can chat over coffee,” the elderly professor suggested one day giving out his address to me. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Even though we belonged to different disciplines, we blended well. In short, we became good friends and at times we stealthily managed beer sessions. We discussed world events, the contemporary scientific developments world over and local politics. We spoke on various matters including increasing number of divorces and modern cult of ‘live-in’ but never spoke about the lady who chaperoned Professor Shukla. I understood that he was cagey about it and I thought it proper to leave the matter to his judgement. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>One afternoon when we were having beer, Professor Shukla became emotional. It was the death anniversary of his wife. It is then that he started narrating his story to me. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>II</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>I was the Head of Department of Chemistry of Hindu College. There I met Ananya, the lady you see with me in the park. She was newly appointed as lecturer and was doing her PhD under my guidance. Ananya was a diligent and conscientious tutor with commendable academic profile. Her students respected her, which you would appreciate was no mean testimonial for a young lecturer. I was also pleased to get laudable feedback from her peers.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>I was a married person, happy with my wife and two grown up children. Life was smooth and normal. Ananya sometimes came to my place. She was quite friendly with my children but my wife Malini kept a distance from her. Ananya used to spend some time with me in my ‘study’ discussing her thesis. My wife had some reservation about it. According to her, there should be a distinction between office and home but she never let Ananya know her mind. Ananya, whenever she came, always brought snacks, which I devoured wholesomely. This made my wife uncomfortable. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>“She is a fantastic cook. I will add in your credentials,” I used to pull Ananya’s leg on such occasions. Soon she became a good friend of my daughter Sonakshi who was a middle level executive with a multinational. Those days we were looking for a suitable match for Sonakshi in marriage portals after she had made amply clear to us that she didn’t have anyone in mind. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>We selected few names and then made enquiries and finally we zeroed on two boys. One evening we were discussing the two options since Sonakshi was not able to make up her mind even though she had met both the boys and had been out with them. Ananya too was present there. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>“Both are nice, suave and well placed professionally. Both are from good families and both are handsome,” Sonakshi said, blushing a little. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i> “But I really can’t choose between the two,” Sonakshi continued and then suddenly turning towards Ananya she said, “Ananya! Tell me if you were in my place, what you would look for in them.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Ananya’s reply was spontaneous. “Look! I will grade the guy who nears your father’s perfect ten.” </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>I was embarrassed at Ananya’s compliment, rather unsettled; gaped at Sonakshi who bore a meaningful smile. And then I looked peevishly at my wife. She was looking at the ceiling, seemingly not amused. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>As mentioned earlier, Malini had some reservations over Ananya’s visit to my place. She even sometimes entered my ‘study’ when I was with Ananya. I noticed it but ignored it because my conscience was clear. I was just helping my student professionally. For me Ananya was just a junior, a young affable colleague. I had no inkling or intuition of what she felt about me. And yet to my utter dismay, I found Malini changed since that evening. She was glum and non-participative in our day to day talks. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Ananya was tall, lithe and fair. She had long black hair reaching her curves. She had told me that she was a basket ball player in her college days. That night I couldn’t sleep comfortably. I failed to wean my thoughts away from Ananya and I noticed a change even in Malini; not sleeping like she usually did. Normally, Malini would sleep like a log the moment she hit the bed. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Till that evening I had never realized that Ananya was remarkably beautiful and attractive. Next morning when she came to my room during recess, I found she was not merely beautiful; she was awfully beautiful, charming and desirable. And then I remembered the previous evening’s episode. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>“You should have been careful. I am not sure what Sonakshi thinks about it but Malini is surely not pleased.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Ananya suddenly became serious. I saw tears at the corner of her eyes. I was quick to realize that it could be another moment of embarrassment if anyone entered my room at that moment. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>“Please control yourself. Let’s not create a scene here too,” I spoke gruffly.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>“Sorry sir. I am very sorry ... please forgive me,” she whispered and left the room. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Ananya didn’t come to the college for a week. I was worried but couldn’t share my concern with anyone. I thought of ringing her; thought of going to her place but could not muster enough courage. I even thought of relinquishing to be her ‘guide’ but that would have hurt her. I didn’t want that. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>I had lost my sleep. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Then one morning Ananya came to my room, wished me briefly and left the room leaving an envelope on my table. I didn’t have courage to open the envelope then and there even though I was quite inquisitive. I decided to open it during lunch hours. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>It was a short letter. It read:</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Sir, </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>It is not easy for me to justify what transpired that evening at your place. Equally difficult is to explain what I feel for you and why I should have developed these feelings. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>The fact is that I fell in love with you in our very first meeting when you were explaining the academic curriculum to me. I knew you were an elderly person with a family. I always knew it was absolute foolishness on my part but I couldn’t stop myself. The fact is that you are ensconced deep in my mind, heart and soul. I tried to reason it out with myself several times but have failed. But now I assure you. Never shall I cause discomforting moments for you. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Please forgive me, this one time.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Ananya</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Ananya completed her PhD under my guidance. Then she had a change of job. She was appointed in the nearby Ramjas College. It was only chance meeting that we saw each other. I learnt from some of the colleagues that she was not interested in marriage and had told her parents accordingly. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Professor Shukla had a long sip of beer and continued as I sat spellbound. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Sonakshi got married and shifted to America with her husband. My son got a job in Australia. He married a local girl and settled there. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>I am not sure whether Malini forgave me. She never talked of that eventful evening and she never talked of Ananya with me even though Ananya came on the marriage ceremony of both our children; wishing them and presenting them exclusive gifts. There was a message in my wife’s silence. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>I retired from teaching and shifted to the present flat. We were a lonely couple and unfortunately, I became a loner after Malini suddenly died of pneumonia couple of years later. </i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>After the funeral Ananya came to my place with other colleagues and expressed condolence. Ananya stayed back as others left. Quietly, she started taking care of the house and of the mourners. My children reached two days after the cremation. Ananya took care of them and their children. We hardly spoke.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i> My children returned after a month. My daughter wanted me to accompany her but I was so attached to the place and the memories associated with it that I didn’t want to leave. Moreover, I wanted to retain my freedom. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Professor Shukla paused, looked at the sky; there was a lump in his throat. A little later he continued. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Ananya has hired a flat next door and has been taking care of me since then. She starts her day by dragging me out of bed and taking me to the park. She makes my breakfast and leaves instructions with the maid for the day. On certain evenings she comes and takes dinner with me before going to her place. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>I tell her repeatedly to find a suitable match and get married but she simply ignores me.</i></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>That is the end of our unfinished story. Professor Shukla said smiling feebly. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>It was a melancholic smile of an anguished soul. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i> “It is sheer madness. You saw how she comes to me after completing each round and asks me if I were ok,” Professor Shukla managed to say with lot of efforts, wiping the tears that had welled up in his eyes.. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>I was virtually shaken. I had no words. We looked at each other in silence and as I got up to leave, Professor Shukla whispered. </i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>“You know Professor! Her extreme devotion really pains me. It hurts me that her life has become an unfinished story because of me.” </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">anya used to spend some time with me in my ‘study’
discussing her thesis. My wife had some reservation about it. According to her,
there should be a distinction between office and home but she never let Ananya
know her mind. Ananya, whenever she came, always brought snacks, which I devoured
wholesomely. This made my wife uncomfortable. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“She
is a fantastic cook. I will add in your credentials,” I used to pull Ananya’s leg
on such occasions. Soon she became a
good friend of my daughter Sonakshi who was a middle level executive with a
multinational. Those days we were looking for a suitable match for Sonakshi in
marriage portals after she had made amply clear to us that she didn’t have anyone
in mind. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We
selected few names and then made enquiries and finally we zeroed on two boys. One
evening we were discussing the two options since Sonakshi was not able to make up
her mind even though she had met both the boys and had been out with them. Ananya
too was present there. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Both
are nice, suave and well placed professionally. Both are from good families and
both are handsome,” Sonakshi said, blushing a little. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “But I really can’t choose between the
two,” Sonakshi continued and then suddenly turning towards Ananya she said,
“Ananya! Tell me if you were in my place, what you would look for in them.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ananya’s
reply was spontaneous. “Look! I will grade the guy who nears your father’s
perfect ten.” <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I
was embarrassed at Ananya’s compliment, rather unsettled; gaped at Sonakshi who
bore a meaningful smile. And then I looked peevishly at my wife. She was
looking at the ceiling, seemingly not amused. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As
mentioned earlier, Malini had some reservations over Ananya’s visit to my place.
She even sometimes entered my ‘study’ when I was with Ananya. I noticed it but
ignored it because my conscience was clear. I was just helping my student professionally.
For me Ananya was just a junior, a young affable colleague. I had no inkling or
intuition of what she felt about me. And yet to my utter dismay, I found Malini
changed since that evening. She was glum and non-participative in our day to
day talks. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ananya
was tall, lithe and fair. She had long black hair reaching her curves. She had told me that she was a basket ball
player in her college days. That night I couldn’t sleep comfortably. I failed
to wean my thoughts away from Ananya and I noticed a change even in Malini; not
sleeping like she usually did. Normally, Malini would sleep like a log the
moment she hit the bed. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Till
that evening I had never realized that Ananya was remarkably beautiful and attractive.
Next morning when she came to my room during recess, I found she was not merely
beautiful; she was awfully beautiful, charming and desirable. And then I
remembered the previous evening’s episode. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You
should have been careful. I am not sure what Sonakshi thinks about it but
Malini is surely not pleased.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ananya
suddenly became serious. I saw tears at the corner of her eyes. I was quick to
realize that it could be another moment of embarrassment if anyone entered my
room at that moment. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Please
control yourself. Let’s not create a scene here too,” I spoke gruffly.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Sorry
sir. I am very sorry ... please forgive me,” she whispered and left the room. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ananya
didn’t come to the college for a week. I was worried but couldn’t share my concern
with anyone. I thought of ringing her; thought of going to her place but could
not muster enough courage. I even thought of relinquishing to be her ‘guide’
but that would have hurt her. I didn’t want that. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I
had lost my sleep. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then
one morning Ananya came to my room, wished me briefly and left the room leaving
an envelope on my table. I didn’t have courage to open the envelope then and
there even though I was quite inquisitive. I decided to open it during lunch
hours. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It
was a short letter. It read:<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sir,
<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It
is not easy for me to justify what transpired that evening at your place.
Equally difficult is to explain what I feel for you and why I should have developed
these feelings. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
fact is that I fell in love with you in our very first meeting when you were explaining
the academic curriculum to me. I knew you were an elderly person with a family.
I always knew it was absolute foolishness on my part but I couldn’t stop myself.
The fact is that you are ensconced deep in my mind, heart and soul. I tried to
reason it out with myself several times but have failed. But now I assure you. Never shall I cause
discomforting moments for you. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Please
forgive me, this one time.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ananya<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ananya
completed her PhD under my guidance. Then she had a change of job. She was
appointed in the nearby Ramjas College. It was only chance meeting that we saw
each other. I learnt from some of the colleagues that she was not interested in
marriage and had told her parents accordingly. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Professor
Shukla had a long sip of beer and continued as I sat spellbound. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sonakshi
got married and shifted to America with her husband. My son got a job in
Australia. He married a local girl and settled there. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I
am not sure whether Malini forgave me. She never talked of that eventful evening
and she never talked of Ananya with me even though Ananya came on the marriage
ceremony of both our children; wishing them and presenting them exclusive
gifts. There was a message in my wife’s silence. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I
retired from teaching and shifted to the present flat. We were a lonely couple and
unfortunately, I became a loner after Malini suddenly died of pneumonia couple
of years later. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After
the funeral Ananya came to my place with other colleagues and expressed
condolence. Ananya stayed back as others
left. Quietly, she started taking care of the house and of the mourners. My children reached two days after the
cremation. Ananya took care of them and their children. We hardly spoke.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> My children returned after a month. My
daughter wanted me to accompany her but I was so attached to the place and the
memories associated with it that I didn’t want to leave. Moreover, I wanted to
retain my freedom. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Professor
Shukla paused, looked at the sky; there was a lump in his throat. A little
later he continued. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ananya
has hired a flat next door and has been taking care of me since then. She starts
her day by dragging me out of bed and taking me to the park. She makes my breakfast
and leaves instructions with the maid for the day. On certain evenings she comes
and takes dinner with me before going to her place. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I
tell her repeatedly to find a suitable match and get married but she simply
ignores me.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That
is the end of our unfinished story. Professor Shukla said smiling feebly. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was a melancholic smile of an
anguished soul.<i> <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “It is sheer madness. You saw how she comes to
me after completing each round and asks me if I were ok,” Professor Shukla
managed to say with lot of efforts, wiping the tears that had welled up in his eyes..
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was virtually shaken. I had no
words. We looked at each other in silence and as I got up to leave, Professor Shukla
whispered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You know Professor! Her extreme
devotion really pains me. It hurts me that
her life has become an unfinished story because of me.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-63571694957645393982017-05-11T06:29:00.001-07:002017-05-11T06:29:38.518-07:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">MANUSMRITI
PART- II<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">She
had been working in my house for nearly a year. I understand my wife had a long
talk with her during her first meeting before my wife engaged her. I remember it
was a long interview followed by my wife’s talking to her previous employer;
asking her all that can be asked about a female household help - the <i>kaamwali. </i>The<i> </i>new <i>Kaamwali </i>had a son
by the name of Nandu so my wife started calling her ‘<i>Nandu ki Amma’</i>. That was her identity in our house. My son and
daughter called her by that name and so did I even though over a period we had
learnt that her name was Rajani. In any case, I never had any occasion to talk
to Rajani. First, I used to leave my house in the morning before she came and I
returned home late in the evening much after she had left. Besides, I
considered it prudent not to get into trifles since our house hold ran on my
wife’s dictate. My wife was happy with Rajani’s work and that is what mattered.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Rajani
is punctual and quick in uptake. She has learnt my likes and dislikes in a very
short span. She knows, I like floors and
cupboards shining bright. She knows, we
like coffee in the morning and children like hot milk with Horlicks and that we
like lesser use of edible oil and condiments,” my wife had mentioned on a
Sunday morning while she was in an expansive mood after a delicious <i>idli-dosa </i>breakfast prepared by Rajani. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rajani
must be in her mid-forties - that was my guess. I had noticed her long jet
black hair curling over her hind side and that she was tall, fair and
voluptuous. Truthfully, I knew she had an exciting profile but I never crossed the
safety line. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It
was the eve of <i>Holi </i>festival<i>. </i>My wife had asked Rajani to come early
and help her in making some snacks for the guests. Rajani didn’t come early;
even her normal reporting time had gone past. My wife was annoyed even though
my daughter had extended her a helping hand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“She
shouldn’t have promised to come early or should have at least come on regular
time. It is mid noon and there is no trace of her. I don’t like such
irresponsible behavior,” grumbled my wife forgetting all the earlier homilies
she delivered in her praise. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Our
guests came. There were snacks cooked by my wife and daughter overly
supplemented by those brought by my son from the nearby confectioner. In fact,
no one was eager in picking up the home made snacks, which riled my wife a
trifle bit. We played <i>Holi</i> and then the guests departed. We
decided to close the festivities and go for a wash. My wife was unhappy and still
grumbling. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“So
much of this left over will go waste. If <i>Nandu’s
Amma</i> were here, she could have taken it to her family. Of late, this woman
is becoming difficult,” my wife growled as she started arranging the household.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And
then there seemed to be some commotion at our gate. I saw Rajani running in and
a man chasing her with a hockey stick in his hand. The burly man was followed
by an elderly boy and a teen aged girl.Rajani ran inside without talking to us.
We were flabbergasted. The man and his children stopped short of our court
yard. The man was fuming. It was obvious that he was overly drunk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“This
woman has been avoiding me since yesterday; refuses to come to me at night. And
she has been dying to come to you since day break,” he said staring at me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
got damned scared and hastily rushed towards my room. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The
man won’t stop. Coming close to me he shouted, “You and your wife have been
tempting her with money and gifts and I know what that means - you have been seducing
her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">At
that point Rajani came out. She had bruises all around and there was blood oozing
from her mouth. She was shrieking and shouting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“You
are an inhuman beast. You treat me as if
I were an animal. You want me to act like a bitch; always in heat. I don’t want
to stay with you anymore.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Then
turning towards me she cried, “<i>Sahib!</i>
See, how badly he has beaten me with the hockey stick. He is butcher, a demon.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The
brute jumped towards Rajani swinging the hockey stick but my son came in
between. That made him furious. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“You
think this old foggy will keep you? He will use you and kick your ass when he
is tired of you. I know these bastards. They want a new woman every other day.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
was furious at the accusation and I didn’t want to take it lying down. I asked
my son to take out the car. “I am going to take Rajani to the police station.
This scoundrel should not get scot free.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
was emboldened when my wife joined me instantly. “Yes. These rascals should not be left unpunished,”
she said with a determined look.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We
went to the police station and narrated the whole story to theSub Inspector on
duty. Initially, the SI was quite reluctant to register a case.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">‘<i>Sahib</i>! I know these people. They will
fight one day and be friends the next day. It is a daily affair for these women
to be thrashed by their husbands. In fact, they are proud of it in a funnier way.
It is the sign of masculinity in men - to thrash their women once in a while.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Stop
yapping. Record a FIR or else I will report the matter to your superior,” I
snapped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The
SI knew I was in the media and lack of diligence could land him introuble. A
FIR and Rajani’s statement was recorded and then she was sent to the government
hospital for a medical check-up and I insisted that her husband was also tested
for excessive intake of alcohol. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We
returned to my place minus Rajani’s husband who was detained by the SI in the
police station. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“We
will get the medical report and present him before the city magistrate tomorrow
morning,” the SI told me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
was happy that the scoundrel will get good thrashing while in the police
custody. My wife gave Rajani hot tea and snacks to eat. They were in conference
while I took a shower and changed. It was agreed between them that Rajani will stay
with her maternal uncle’s familywho lived nearby and continue working for us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A
week passed. I was busy like usual, moving in and out of the town. The case was
taken up by the city magistrate and I got a court notice to be present in the
court on the given date. I consulted Harsh, my school time friend, who was also
the lawyer of my business concern. Harsh assured me that there was nothing to
worry. You are supposed to strengthen the prosecution case. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> The court proceeding started. We were in for a
shock. Rajani was narrating a different story. I was getting out of my wits. I looked towards
the SI and then Harsh in turn. Rajani’s version was miles away from the actual facts.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rajani
blamed me of harassing her sexually in the absence of my wife and that I had groped
her several times. That I had often given her money to lieu of sexual favours
and threatened her to remain quiet in the matter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
was aghast to know that she had accused my wife as the one who abetted in the
crime. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Don’t
you have any conscience? Aren’t you ashamed of accusing me and my wife of utter
untruth,” I shouted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
was admonished by the magistrate. “You will get enough opportunity to speak out
your side of story. Please remain quiet or I will hold you liable for contempt
of court.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That
was the first shock I ever got in my life; publically insulted and humiliated.
After the court proceedings, we tried to speak to Rajani. She refused to talk
to anyone of our family; not even to my wife. In fact, her husband never left
her even for a moment. He forbade her to work in my house. She was virtually under
house arrest. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After
the above proceedings, I found even the SI shying away from me. “Sir! What can
I do in the matter? It is between her and you. I am there to merely help in the
investigation, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It
was the biggest shock of my life. I was crestfallen, thoroughly depressed. I
had till then led a pleasant proverbial happy go lucky life. Harsh said he will
fight it out in the court but could never spell the future course of action
though he had managed a bail for me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Three
days of utter agony and I don’t recollect the number of times and number of
ways I thought of ending my life. And then on the fourth evening Harsh asked me
to come to our club. “Rajani and her husband have agreed to talk you. The SI
will also be there. We could discuss the case there without being disturbed,”
This was Harsh, my close friend and lawyer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“You
see the case has turned <i>topsy turvy.</i>
Instead of appreciating your help, Rajani has filed a complaint against you.
That you molested her modesty several times and that you have been paying her money
to keep quite.” That was the SI giving the prelude of the case diary that
existed then. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“The
FIR stands revised based on Rajani’s statement recorded before the magistrate.
You may be in trouble and that too serious one.” That was the pith and
substance of the case according to Harsh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“But
you know I am innocent. Never ever looked at the female. Never touched her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“That
is your truth. The Law is an ass. A blind ass. And unfortunately, provisions’
of law relating to outraging the modesty of women have been made very
stringent. Even her statement is enough to put you behind the bar. No
additional evidence required.” This was SI again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“What
do you suggest?” I asked the SI.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“The
bastard wants ten lakhs to withdraw the complaint,” the SI spoke in a casual
way as if there was nothing unusual about it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
would have fainted but for the presence of my son on my side. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“So-
I have been trapped,” I managed to speak.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Leave
that to me and your lawyer. If you are agreeable to shell out the money, we
will try to close the case taking the magistrate is with us. Incidentally, the
bastard has demanded one lakh,” the SI added, wanting to give credibility to
the deal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“And
how much you two bastards get out of it?” I asked Harsh, my life time buddy in
utter frustration. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Breach
of Trust - between a lawyer and his client.” Harsh quipped. And then he
whispered, I don’t mind having her ass for once.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My
son took the initiative. Next day he went to the SI and called Rajani and her
husband there. Harsh was there to help him. The SI and Harsh had drafted a loan
document signed by Rajani and her husband agreeing to have taken a loan of ten lakhs
from my son. That was the guarantee SI, the law enforcing authority had
arranged as safeguard if Rajani or her husband defied the agreement. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A
fresh statement was recorded absolving me of all allegations. It stated that
Rajani had got hurt during a street fight with unknown <i>Holi</i> revelers over some trifle issue. I was lucky to skip the jail.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Time
passed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We
tried to forget the issue. My daughter was married off. My wife and my son and
luckily for us, his wife too decided never to appoint any <i>kaamwali</i>. We decided to share the responsibilities between ourselves.
I didn’t know where the fault lay. Was it in the changed social system heralding
women’s lib or was it in our recently modified law, which had castigated the
freedom of male members of the society? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We have to abide by Manusmriti Part
II. </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I tried to
convince myself and my family. <i><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We
wanted to shift from the present location but property matters being complex,
couldn’t do so. One day, while buying fresh from vegetable market, I suddenly
saw, Rajani squatting on the ground. There were filthy, oily rags wrapped
around her knees and she was begging for alms. I was dismayed. My first
reaction was that she must be out of job since everyone in our colony believed
that she had cheated us; no one engaged her any more. Bad reputation spreads
faster than the good one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Our
eyes met and then I hurriedly looked other way. I wanted to get away from the
place. I dumped the bag in the boot of my car and came in front. I was perplexed.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rajani
hurriedly dragged herself in front of my car. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What could be her next ploy? </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
was worried.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As
I opened the door of my car, she dragged closer and folded her hands in <i>namastey. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“What
do you want now? I don’t want to talk to you. Get away,” I could not keep my
cool.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“<i>Sahib! </i>Please forgive me. I know I have
been very mean to you but please believe me it was the doing of my husband and
the SI. They both schemed to trap you and extort money from you. My husband beat
me mercilessly and threatened to kill me if I didn’t follow his orders.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“<i>Sahib! </i>The SI took two lakhs out of the
money you gave and a lakh was given to the magistrate to withdraw the case. My
husband squandered the remaining money within few months and then he wanted me
to work for another rich family. He wanted to repeat the same story. The SI had
taken him to one of his colleagues who was willing to be the part of next
episode. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Sahib! </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
refused to be a party to another game plan and you see the result. He broke
both my knees and has thrown me out. I am on the streets for last one week. I
knew you come here to buy vegetables. I wanted to seek your forgiveness before
I leave this town.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“<i>Sahib! </i>I couldn’t have left the town
with so much of burden on my conscience. Please forgive me. I have been punished
enough for my sins and I am willing to accept the remaining retribution.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Where
are you going now?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I
don’t know. I pray for death but it doesn’t come so easily to a sinner like me.
I want to go to Haridwar. They say mother Ganga accepts every sinner and forgives
him.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
was stupefied. I hated this woman for all her miss-doings. And here before me was
a victim of male brutality; beaten and forced to commit one wrong after
another. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Rajani!
I wish I could do something for you. Ironically, we are sailing in the same
boat. You are the victim of the ancient social law and I am the victim of its modern
version. The <i>Manusmriti </i>– the ancient
law was blind towards women; berated the modesty of women and so is its new
version- arrogantly belligerent towards men.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
took out a five hundred rupee note and gave it to her. “Be God with you,” I whispered while getting into
my car leaving behind the hapless woman, her hands folded in supplication. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-43147965554647820672017-04-27T23:30:00.001-07:002017-04-27T23:30:33.025-07:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">A MALE
DESCENDENT AND MOKSHA<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">(Eternal
Liberation of Soul)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rathore family was happy when Shakuntala
was born as the first child of Rajbir Singh Rathore. After religious rituals
and <i>havan-</i> a sacrificial oblation to
the fire god, the family took the newly born to the village temple and prayed before
the goddess for her good fortune and a male sibling after her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Unfortunately, Rajbir Singh had
four more girls after Shakuntala. He was disappointed and so was his
octogenarian father, <i>Choudhary </i>Dharambir
Singh Rathore. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbir and his father wanted the
family name to continue and that was possible only if Rajbir had a male
descendent. Besides, the old patriarch also believed that to attain <i>moksha</i> – eternal liberation of soul, the
last rites of a deceased ought to be performed by a male descendent. <i>Choudhary</i> Dharambir Singh therefore insisted
that Rajbir married again and had a male child from his new wife. Rajbir was
reluctant. All his daughters other than Shakuntala were happily settled and
financially well off. Rajbir was grateful to god for it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Unfortunately, Shakuntala’s husband,
Shyam Singh turned out to be a habitual gambler and an alcoholic. He squandered his
ancestral property, remained mostly idle and was dependent on his in-laws. Two
years after her marriage, Shakuntala gave birth to a girl child. They named her
Seema. Shakuntala, Shyam Singh and their daughter, Seema lived with Rajbir
Singh in the ancestral <i>haveli. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Seema grew tall, beautiful and a bright
student. She wanted to be a nurse. After completion of her schooling, <i>Choudhary</i> Dharambir Singh got her a seat
in the State Nursing Institute. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbir was over fifty but constantly
under pressure from his father to remarry. He finally yielded and married
Anita, thirty years his junior. Even though the marriage rituals were hastened,
the old bridegroom could not avoid scornful comments of the guests.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“At his age, he should have
thought of marrying his granddaughter rather than getting married himself,” someone
said derisively.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“This is just to ensure that the property
remains within the family,” the other quipped. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Perhaps he thinks a male child will
ensure his <i>moksha,</i>” yet another guest
mocked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbir and <i>Choudhary</i> Dharambir Singh were mute listeners.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">A year later, Anita gave birth to
a male child. <i>Choudhary</i> Dharambir Singh
was overjoyed and wanted large scale celebrations on the occasion. Entire
village was invited to a feast. Dharambir Singh ensured lavish supply of liquor
to the guests. He wanted them to rejoice and to rejoice himself. “Let this be the
all-time best,” he told his <i>munimji, </i>the
manager.<i> </i>The child was named Rajbaran
Singh Rathore. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbaran was three when <i>Choudhary</i> Dharambir Singh left the
earthly world after brief illness. In his dying moments, the Choudhary felt
assured of a heavenly berth for he knew his son Rajbir was there to perform his
last rites.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbir Singh was now old with indifferent
health. Anita, the second wife of Rajbir Sigh became the de facto head of the family,
which owned a large tract of land and several buildings. But her task of
managing the estate was getting difficult with rising demur from Shakuntala and
her mother, the first wife of Rajbir Singh.. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Soon trouble brewed within the
family and finally came to surface with the three women coming at loggerheads
over the controlling of the property. Shyam Singh, who never liked Anita, instigated
Shakuntala to ask for her share of the property. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Anita opposed the move vehemently.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“You are no longer a part of
Rathore family. In fact, you are lucky that you have not been thrown out of the
<i>haveli,</i>”<i> </i>she shouted at Shakuntala. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbir was a hapless onlooker. He
tried to pacify the two camps but his voice was lost in the din.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">A week later, Anita asked Shakuntala
to leave the <i>haveli</i> and shift to an
adjoining house. “I have told the estate manager to give you two thousand
rupees every month to run your household. That is the best you can expect from
Rathore family.” She added contemptuously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“You can’t do that to me.
Daughters too have equal right over father’s property. I will take you to the
court of law,” Shakuntala protested though she knew she needed someone to
assist her in the matter and that her husband was thoroughly incompetent and
unreliable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The family finally split.
Shakuntala shifted to the small house given to her by Anita along with Shyam
Singh. Seema was still in the Nursing Institute.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbir Singh was sad to see his
daughter go but could not withstand Anita’s vehemence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Seema after successful completion
of her training joined the District Hospital. She shifted to a staff quarter of the
hospital. Rajbir spent most of his evenings with Seema who had kept herself
aloof from the family feud.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Young Rajbaran was the most cared
and valued person of Rathore family. Anita took care of him personally and
engaged a pair of security guards to protect him whenever he went out of the <i>haveli.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbaran was growing impudent for
he got whatever he demanded. He was insolent towards his teachers and
misbehaved with his friends. He had acquired the reputation of a rowdy and a
bully having no interest in his studies. He always had plentiful of money,
which he spent recklessly on his cronies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Anita was a worried mother realizing
that Rajbaran was becoming ill-tempered, arrogant and perfidious. He would never give fair account of monies
given to him; instead he would raise tantrums if persisted. Despite all his
angularities, Anita had no heart to deny him anything. Her woes peaked when
Rajbaran demanded a sports car. Anita’s appeal and counselling by aging Rajbir
Singh were of no avail. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbaran got a car even before he
was eligible for a driving licence. Rash driving became his passion. Soon he
dropped out of school, joined a political outfit and formed a gang of his own. He spent most of his time away from home,
caring least about his ancestral estate. His mother’s fervent appeals to share
her burden in managing the estate didn’t impact him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Soon Rajbaran was known for his
notoriety. The money his mother gave him was not enough to meet his demands. One
day he called the estate manager and asked him to remit half of the estate
revenues in to his bank account. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The manager was dumbfounded;
Anita was deeply distressed but Rajbaran had his way. “You shouldn’t forget.
Soon I am going to inherit this property and your future will rest in my hands,”
he scolded the manager in front of his mother. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">One day the estate manager told
Anita that Rajbaran was spending a lot of money on a woman of ill-repute. Anita was dismayed when she learnt that the
woman was several years senior to Rajbaran and had a son from her previous
husband. She was desperate to wean Rajbaran away from his new found love but failed. No pleas, no entreaties and no adulations worked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Son, think over it again. Your
marrying this woman will sully the name of the family. I will find you a
beautiful bride,” Anita implored. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbaran was a possessed man; he ignored
his mother’s en</span><b style="text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">5A MALE
DESCENDENT AND MOKSHA</span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">(Eternal
Liberation of Soul)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rathore family was happy when Shakuntala
was born as the first child of Rajbir Singh Rathore. After religious rituals
and <i>havan-</i> a sacrificial oblation to
the fire god, the family took the newly born to the village temple and prayed before
the goddess for her good fortune and a male sibling after her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Unfortunately, Rajbir Singh had
four more girls after Shakuntala. He was disappointed and so was his
octogenarian father, <i>Choudhary </i>Dharambir
Singh Rathore. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbir and his father wanted the
family name to continue and that was possible only if Rajbir had a male
descendent. Besides, the old patriarch also believed that to attain <i>moksha</i> – eternal liberation of soul, the
last rites of a deceased ought to be performed by a male descendent. <i>Choudhary</i> Dharambir Singh therefore insisted
that Rajbir married again and had a male child from his new wife. Rajbir was
reluctant. All his daughters other than Shakuntala were happily settled and
financially well off. Rajbir was grateful to god for it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Unfortunately, Shakuntala’s husband,
Shyam Singh turned to be a habitual gambler and an alcoholic. He squandered his
ancestral property, remained mostly idle and was dependent on his in-laws. Two
years after her marriage, Shakuntala gave birth to a girl child. They named her
Seema. Shakuntala, Shyam Singh and their daughter, Seema lived with Rajbir
Singh in the ancestral <i>haveli. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Seema grew tall, beautiful and a bright
student. She wanted to be a nurse. After completion of her schooling, <i>Choudhary</i> Dharambir Singh got her a seat
in the State Nursing Institute. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbir was over fifty but constantly
under pressure from his father to remarry. He finally yielded and married
Anita, thirty years his junior. Even though the marriage rituals were hastened,
the old bridegroom could not avoid scornful comments of the guests.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“At his age, he should have
thought of marrying his granddaughter rather than getting married himself,” someone
said derisively.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“This is just to ensure that the property
remains within the family,” the other quipped. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Perhaps he thinks a male child will
ensure his <i>moksha,</i>” yet another guest
mocked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbir and <i>Choudhary</i> Dharambir Singh were mute listeners.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">A year later, Anita gave birth to
a male child. <i>Choudhary</i> Dharambir Singh
was overjoyed and wanted large scale celebrations on the occasion. Entire
village was invited to a feast. Dharambir Singh ensured lavish supply of liquor
to the guests. He wanted them to rejoice and to rejoice himself. “Let this be the
all-time best,” he told his <i>munimji, </i>the
manager.<i> </i>The child was named Rajbaran
Singh Rathore. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbaran was three when <i>Choudhary</i> Dharambir Singh left the
earthly world after brief illness. In his dying moments, the Choudhary felt
assured of a heavenly berth for he knew his son Rajbir was there to perform his
last rites.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbir Singh was now old with indifferent
health. Anita, the second wife of Rajbir Sigh became the de facto head of the family,
which owned a large tract of land and several buildings. But her task of
managing the estate was getting difficult with rising demur from Shakuntala and
her mother, the first wife of Rajbir Singh.. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Soon trouble brewed within the
family and finally came to surface with the three women coming at loggerheads
over the controlling of the property. Shyam Singh, who never liked Anita, instigated
Shakuntala to ask for her share of the property. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Anita opposed the move vehemently.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“You are no longer a part of
Rathore family. In fact, you are lucky that you have not been thrown out of the
<i>haveli,</i>”<i> </i>she shouted at Shakuntala. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbir was a hapless onlooker. He
tried to pacify the two camps but his voice was lost in the din.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">A week later, Anita asked Shakuntala
to leave the <i>haveli</i> and shift to an
adjoining house. “I have told the estate manager to give you two thousand
rupees every month to run your household. That is the best you can expect from
Rathore family.” She added contemptuously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“You can’t do that to me.
Daughters too have equal right over father’s property. I will take you to the
court of law,” Shakuntala protested though she knew she needed someone to
assist her in the matter and that her husband was thoroughly incompetent and
unreliable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The family finally split.
Shakuntala shifted to the small house given to her by Anita along with Shyam
Singh. Seema was still in the Nursing Institute.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbir Singh was sad to see his
daughter go but could not withstand Anita’s vehemence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Seema after successful completion
of her training joined District Hospital. She shifted to a staff quarter of the
hospital. Rajbir spent most of his evenings with Seema who had kept herself
aloof from the family feud.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Young Rajbaran was the most cared
and valued person of Rathore family. Anita took care of him personally and
engaged a pair of security guards to protect him whenever he went out of the <i>haveli.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbaran was growing impudent for
he got whatever he demanded. He was insolent towards his teachers and
misbehaved with his friends. He had acquired the reputation of a rowdy and a
bully having no interest in his studies. He always had plentiful of money,
which he spent recklessly on his cronies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Anita was a worried mother realizing
that Rajbaran was becoming ill-tempered, arrogant and perfidious. He would never give fair account of monies
given to him; instead he would raise tantrums if persisted. Despite all his
angularities, Anita had no heart to deny him anything. Her woes peaked when
Rajbaran demanded a sports car. Anita’s appeal and counselling by aging Rajbir
Singh were of no avail. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbaran got a car even before he
was eligible for a driving licence. Rash driving became his passion. Soon he
dropped out of school, joined a political outfit and formed a gang of his own. He spent most of his time away from home,
caring least about his ancestral estate. His mother’s fervent appeals to share
her burden in managing the estate didn’t impact him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Soon Rajbaran was known for his
notoriety. The money his mother gave him was not enough to meet his demands. One
day he called the estate manager and asked him to remit half of the estate
revenues in to his bank account. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The manager was dumbfounded;
Anita was deeply distressed but Rajbaran had his way. “You shouldn’t forget.
Soon I am going to inherit this property and your future will rest in my hands,”
he scolded the manager in front of his mother. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">One day the estate manager told
Anita that Rajbaran was spending a lot of money on a woman of ill-repute. Anita was dismayed when she learnt that the
woman was several years senior to Rajbaran and had a son from her previous
husband. She was desperate to wean away Rajbaran from his new found love but to
no avail. No pleas, no entreaties and no adulations worked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Son, think over it again. Your
marrying this woman will sully the name of the family. I will find you a
beautiful bride,” Anita implored. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbaran was a possessed man; he ignored
his mother’s entreaties. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“I am going to marry her,” he was
emphatic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbaran mortgaged a property with
a local moneylender, married the woman clandestinely and moved away to another town
without informing his mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">When Rajbir came to know of it,
he could not bear the shock; he suffered a paralytic attack and was totally immobilised. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Seema was appalled to see the
condition of her grandfather. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“I am taking him to my hospital.
It will be easier for me to look after him there,” Seema told Anita who remained
a mute onlooker as the former took away Rajbir Singh to the hospital. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbir’s condition kept deteriorating.
Week later, the family was told by the doctors that the
end was near. Anita sent couple of her men to locate Rajbaran and luckily they
succeeded and returned with him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbir died the next day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">As Rajbaran was all set to light
the pyre of his father, the family lawyer stepped forward and stopped him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Sir, you cannot do that,” the
lawyer told him politely. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rajbaran, all family friends and
relatives gathered at the cremation ground were shocked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> Anita was furious. “Don’t you know he is the
only male descendent of the deceased? How can you deny him performing his
religious obligation?” She shouted at the lawyer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Madam, the deceased has named a
different person to perform his last rites,” the lawyer replied while opening the
will. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Everyone was astonished for the will
read: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">My last rites should be performed
by Seema, my granddaughter.</i>treaties. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-16762194465472352002017-04-10T06:52:00.000-07:002017-04-10T06:52:27.241-07:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">FOR BREATHING
FREE<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Captain
Diwakar Swaroop was twenty four when he met Arundhati Sagar. He was doing his
engineering degree course in CME - the College of Military Engineering at Poona
now called Pune. Arundhati had just completed her Masters in mathematics and
was teaching in a private school. Her father Brigadier Arvind Sagar was Deputy
Commandant of the CME. The two met often in the officers’ mess and in the Ranji
Singhji Institute, the famous RSI- the rendezvous point for the defence
officers in Poona. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Diwakar
was very fond of dancing and so was Arundhati. They often paired on the dancing
floor; became friends and over the time, intimate ones. Brigadier Anand Sagar liked
Diwakar. He knew Diwakar was doing well and had a promising career in the army.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Arundhati,
do you like the bloke?” Brigadier Sagar asked his daughter straight forth,
typical of an army officer. And when
Arundhati affirmed, Brigadier Sagar asked his wife to go ahead with their marriage
arrangements. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“I
may have to move out in couple of months. I want to them to get married before
that,” he told his wife. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Captain
Diwakar was happily married to the girl of his liking. They had very loving moments
in Poona and before Captain Diwakar completed his degree course, Arundhati gave
birth to a daughter. They named her Abha – meaning glow. Both of them felt the new
born had added a glow in their life. The young couple were extremely happy.
They felt it was a heavenly blessing; a God given gift. They loved their
daughter immensely. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">After
completion of his degree course Captain Diwakar was posted to an operational
area. Arundhati shifted to ‘separated family quarters’ in the Bombay
Engineering Group & Center at Kirkee. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Over
the years, Diwakar was promoted as Major, Lieutenant Colonel and finally to the
rank of Brigadier as Commandant of the BEG & Center. During the interim spells
when Diwakar was posted in the forward area Arundhati took up teaching in her
old school because she loved teaching and it kept her busy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Little
Abha had the best of schooling and did her graduation from the prestigious
Fergusson College, Poona. Abha was bright, beautiful and charming. In fact,
Arundhati had wanted another child but Diwakar was reluctant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“I
don’t want our love to be divided between two kids. Abha is God’s benediction;
I want no distraction in bringing her up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Thus Abha
remained the only child of the Swaroop family. Both the parents were ever eager
to meet her demands. Abha had taken to tennis and reached the national level. Diwakar
had engaged the best coach for her and Arundhati always accompanied Abha to the
stadia and places she had to play. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">It
was in one of such tournaments that Abha met Patrick who was a state level
player. They played several tournaments together and in some, they played
‘mixed doubles’. Patrick was tall and handsome and an excellent
conversationalist. Abha was attracted towards him. Brigadier Diwakar Swaroop
was uncomfortable to see Abha getting closer to Patrick. The Swaroops had no
knowledge of Patrick’s background since Abha had never given any satisfactory answer
whenever they asked her about Patrick. The parents were in for a shock when one
evening Abha announced at the dining table that she was planning to marry Patrick.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“You are
too young for marriage. Moreover, you have never told us about his family and his
background. How are you going to survive?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Patrick
has applied for a tennis coaching certificate and I have an offer to model for
an MNC product.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Diwakar
and Arundhati were stunned. They could not believe that little Abha could have an
independent existence; beyond the parental periphery. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“You
never told us earlier,” Arundhati asked her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Did
you ever ask?” Abha was quick to defend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Yes
that was the stark reality. They had let her grow her way, never interfered in
her matters. But marriage was a serious matter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“By
the way what product is it and who is the promoter?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Papa,
how does that matter? They are paying me well and if I am accepted in the market,
I will be in demand. And that is what matters.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
couple was silenced by their little daughter. To their embarrassment they found
out that Abha was modelling for a well-known brand of condoms. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Mom,
modelling is just a profession like any other. There is no breach of morality in
selecting a product. Don’t look for me when you see the ad on your TV. Look at me
as a model marketing a product.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">A couple
of months later Abha was married to Patrick. It was revealed during the court proceedings that
Patrick belonged to Hyderabad where his father worked as a clerk in the
treasury office. Patrick had left his parents after his secondary examination
and was staying with his uncle in Poona. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Though
Swaroops were unsettled by the sudden pace of the event, they arranged an
impressive reception in the officers’ mess of the Center. In their private
moments, they wished Abha had made a better choice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Brigadier
Diwakar Swaroop retired from service and moved to a cottage he had purchased in
<i>Pashaan,</i> a satellite town of Pune. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">As a
model, Abha was not a big success. Consequently, there were not many offers; typical
of the show-world. Patrick worked as part time coach in couple of schools but
his income was barely enough to meet his own demands. The young couple was always
short of money and would quite often ask Arundhati for help.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Please don’t tell papa, Abha would always say
with a promise to return the money at the soonest possible. Since that never
happened, Arundhati had no option but to keep Diwakar informed. And when Abha
had a daughter, Swaroops had to bear all the expenses. In fact, they had to
take the newly born baby to their place for Patrick and Abha lived in a small
room in a slum area. The elderly parents
took upon themselves all the responsibilities of the newly born including the
expenses thereon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Besides
financial burden there was acute time constraint on Swaroops. With the new baby
at their hands, they could hardly move out. In good old days they never missed
any cultural event in the town and they were still considered the most gracious
dancing couple in the officers’ mess. Arundhati who was also fond of classical
music and writing poetry had no time for her hobbies. In fact, she had sizeable
collection of her poems, which Diwakar wanted to get published after his
retirement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“I
want it to gift it to you on our Silver Jubilee,” he had promised Arundhati. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; tab-stops: 6.0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">But
the little money they had saved was needed for the new baby and to support Abha
and Patrick. The situation worsened when a year later they learnt that Abha was
again in the family way and to their consternation, Patrick was earning nothing
and staying away from Abha for days together. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Why
don’t you ask Abha? After all they should have thought before going for another
child. How are they going to manage?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“How
are we going to manage?”Arundhati corrected him. Diwakar grimaced. He never
thought his loving daughter will bring him to such discomfiture. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
second child birth was more expensive for Abha had developed some pre-natal complications. Patrick had come for a couple of hours before
the child birth and vanished thereafter. Swaroops had to manage everything including
footing of the bill.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Arundhati realized that Abha was too weak to
look after her daughters. Resultantly, she was fully confined within her cottage.
From sunrise till late evening and even during nights it became her
responsibility to look after Abha and the two babies. All her social visits
were shelved. She couldn’t even go to malls for shopping. It was now left to Diwakar
to buy grocery from the army canteen or from the Big Bazaar. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abha’s
daughters were growing and they had to be put in a school. Abha was keen that her daughters were put in
the Army Public School. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Papa,
please go to the Station Commander. He was your subaltern at one time. I am
sure he will help,” Abha insisted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Diwakar
was reluctant and felt embarrassed to approach the Station Commander for he
knew the request was not covered under rules. But on Abha’s persistence he had
to yield. It was a saving grace and much relief for Diwakar that his onetime junior
honoured his request. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abha
took up a job with a travelling agency. It was a little relief for Swaroops
particularly when Patrick was conspicuous by his absence. He often disappeared
telling Abha that he was going to his parents. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">It
was the duty of the old couple to get Nisha and Rita, their granddaughters
ready for school; take them to the bus stand and then receive them in the afternoon.
And it was an arduous task to make the siblings eat their lunch or make them
drink milk for both of them were freak and finicky. Taking them to park in the
evening was assigned to Diwakar who hated to abandon his evening walk. Abha
would return late in the evening looking tired, which required Arundhati to make
dinner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abha’s
elder daughter Nisha was fifteen now. She was exceptionally beautiful and
intelligent. Abha saw the potential of a new-look model in Nisha. She re-established
her links with the modelling world and persuaded one of her old friends to take
Nisha in his project. Nisha was good in
dialogue delivery with perfect diction. She became an instant success in the
ad-world. She was in demand; Abha lost no time to raise her fee. Money started pouring
in; a big financial relief to Swaroops.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Nisha
was now a celebrity. The soap opera producers wanted to take her in family serials.
Patrick was now handling family matters actively. A room was added to the
cottage, which was designed to ensure Nisha’s privacy and Abha engaged a maid to
take care of Nisha’s menial comforts. Abha was also quick to realise the
difference between her two daughters. With rising popularity and celebrity status
of Nisha, her second daughter Rita was developing a complex. To obviate it
getting escalated, Abha shifted Rita to a boarding school. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">There
was a premier of a family soap with Nisha in the lead role. The family was
preparing to attend the function. The social media was expected to be in full
attendance. Arundhati was in cheerful mood. She was in her sky blue silk sari,
which Diwakar had presented her on their silver jubilee. Suddenly Abha rushed in
and told Arundhati that there was a problem.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“The
producer has given us only four invites and my boss wants to attend with his
wife. That would make us seven including Rita.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Arundhati
was taken aback. She couldn’t believe her ears. She slumped on her bed and then
managed to say, “Abha you should have told me earlier in the morning. Both of
us have got ready to attend the function.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“I am
sorry Ma. But my boss is very keen. In fact, he has put me in an odd situation.
The clown has asked me to introduce him and his wife to the other celebrities,”
Abha said with a broad grin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Arundhati
didn’t appreciate the gesture. “Please tell your father... he will be terribly disappointed.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Brigadier
Diwakar was indeed shocked and pained beyond words. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
premier was a grand success. Abha and all the guests were in high spirits. On reaching home, she asked her parents to
join them over a dinner in a top end fancy restaurant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“I
want to celebrate the occasion. It is a big day for me. God has rewarded me for
all my hard work and prayers,” she told the bewildered parents. The evening was
a big show. Abha spoke of her woes in bringing up her daughters. “I am happy, my
labour has been rewarded in my daughter’s success,” she concluded. There was no
mention of Arundhati or Diwakar in Abha’s thanks giving. The old parents were hurt.
The dinner closed with Nisha presenting a bouquet to her mother as Arundhati
and Diwakar watched from the sides. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Nisha
was now a popular actress with Abha as her chaperon. Slowly, Abha took over the
control of the household. Arundhati was feeling suffocated in the new realm but
Diwakar was adjusting to the new order. He had to accept it because he was a chronic
diabetes patient depending on Abha to take him to doctors and hospitals. Arundhati
gradually noticed that she was being ignored not only by Abha but by Diwakar also.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">One
evening Arundhati had invited a few friends to tea; they were her old
colleagues. The guests had arrived and were being served tea when Abha and
Nisha entered with few friends. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Ma, can you take your friends to the lobby. I
want to talk to these guys in the drawing room. They are important people in
the film industry. In fact, I want to clinch a deal for Nisha. It is very
important for her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“The lobby
is equally big to accommodate your guests,” Arundhati suggested. “It will look
odd to shift my friends midway,” she added after an awkward pause. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abha
was adamant. “Ma, these matters have to be handled in privacy and discreetly.
The negotiation must remain a closely guarded secret.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Arundhati
noticed that Diwakar didn’t utter a word of demur. This offended her more than
the embarrassment caused by Abha before her friends. She apologised to her guests
and took them to the balcony of her room and kept
her cool till they left but the humiliation was too much to bear. She quietly retired
to her room; Diwakar was eager to find out the outcome of Abha’s meeting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Next morning
Arundhati surprised everybody. She was ready with her suitcase. As Diwakar came
out of the wash room she said, “Diwakar, I am going to Ranikhet; want to stay
there for some time.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Why
suddenly? It is winter, Ranikhet will be very cold.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“I
know but I feel suffocated here. I must go.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">‘For
how long?” Diwakar was getting nervous.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“I am
not sure,” she whispered and after an uneasy pause added, “The fact is, I can’t
stand the ignominy anymore. But you are free to stay back.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Diwakar
was unnerved. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Arundhati
please understand. You know my predicament. I need medical help on day to day
basis. I have to go to doctors and hospital every now and then. I have diabetes
and high blood pressure and I already had a stroke... I need regular checkups. There
are hardly any facilities in Ranikhet. Please think it over again,” he pleaded.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“I am
aware of your health condition. You
don’t have to accompany me but please don’t stop me. I am dying every moment of
my life before my natural death. I want to breathe freely.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Diwakar
watched helplessly as Arundhati left her family after an association of over thirty
years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">II<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Years
have rolled past. Arundhati is old and infirm, living a lonely life in a small
cottage in the hill town of Ranikhet, which is around six thousand feet above the
sea level. The town is lush green, picturesque and free from pollution but cold
for a woman in her sixties. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Arundhati
stays in-door until the sun comes vertically over her cottage. There is a small
kitchen garden and an orchard in front of her cottage where she passes her long
dreary hours. The orchard has apple, pears and apricot trees. Arundhati loves watching
these trees shedding leaves during fall and blossoming in spring. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She is
an old patient of osteoporosis; in fact, her legs have buckled inwards; walking
is a painful exercise for her, which worsens in winters. She has therefore engaged a part time help
from a neighbouring village to cook for her and look after her household. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Despite
her failing health, she is compassionate and helpful. Spares an hour or so
daily, teaching the village children and in some cases helps them buy school
books and stationery. A year back when she learned that the mathematics teacher
of the government school had retired and his replacement had not joined, she taught
the students during the remaining academic session without any recompense. She was
more than happy that they sincerely acknowledged her help. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“I always
loved teaching and I am happy I could help these poor children save their
academic year. Gives me immense happiness that no pecuniary gain or words can substitute.”
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Often
people who know her background ask her, “You belong to a renowned, opulent family.
Why did you opt for your present arduous life?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Arundhati
simply smiles but says nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I have chosen this path for breathing free.
I wanted to live my own life. </span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She speaks to her inner soul.<i> <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-75390506750063620432017-03-31T02:44:00.000-07:002017-03-31T02:44:18.148-07:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">AVENGING
THE DEAD PARENTS</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br />
<br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">It
was a cold month of January and it was a full moon day, considered to be an
auspicious by the Hindus <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">for propitiating gods. On this day, Ramchandra Jagtap
and his wife Rajanibai had come to the famous temple of goddess <i>Mandher Devi</i> in the Satara district of
Maharastra.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Ramchandra
Jagtap was a farmer from Achera village of Igatpuri sub division of Nashik
district where he owned a piece of land and a small orchard of
oranges. Besides, he grew maize, millet and onion and other seasonal
vegetables, which was good enough for leading an austere village life. Ramchandra
Jagtap and Rajanibai were quite religious. It was after eleven years
of their marriage that they were blessed with a daughter. It could
have been because of prolonged treatment in a fertility clinic but the couple
sincerely believed that it was a divine benediction. Ramchandra was happy
to have a daughter and named her Aparna, a synonym of the goddess. The couple
decided to visit the abode of the goddess with their newly born daughter
to pay their obeisance to the goddess to express their gratitude.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">There was a big crowd
of devotees queuing on the ascending hill track going to the temple. The
devotees had started arriving since wee hours. They were carrying flowers,
sweets and gifts to be offered to the goddess. Some
women were holding infants close to their bosoms and some children were tagging
along their parents. And a few devotees were dragging
sacrificial goats to propitiate the goddess. The temple hill had come to life
with loud incantation of goddess </span></span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Mandher
Devi</i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> by men, women and children and deafening sound by scores of </span><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">drum beaters</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">. It was a super jamboree of humanity; everyone was zealous and
enthused. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Then, misfortune descended
on the temple hill as a gas cylinder exploded in a make-shift shop, engulfing
the cluster of temporary shops. No one could ever imagine that the auspicious
day would turn out to be the most horrible day in the annals of the temple. With
strong wind blowing the shops were gutted in no time. The devotees moving
around the shops cried for help but in vain. Thirty of them were
charred beyond recognition. Panic was writ large on pilgrims’ faces and the
worst followed. The mile long queue along the hill track broke down as the
devotees scampered for safety. It was total mayhem resulting in a
stampede. The strong trampled the old and the weak; women and children were
the worst affected. Over two hundred lives were lost in the frightful
chaos. Ramchandra and his wife Rajanibai were amongst the dead. Five
months old Aparna fell apart from her mother’s lap landing on a shrub of wild
berries. She was badly bruised but survived miraculously and found in an
unconscious state by the rescue team after ten hours.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Ramchandra Jagtap was
the only son of his parents. His elder sister was widowed and lived as a
recluse in a distant village. Ramchandra Jagtap and Rajanibai thus departed
from this world without discharging their obligation towards the goddess
and leaving their five month old daughter in no one’s care. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Sadashiv Rao was a
close friend of Ramchandra Jagtap. They came from same village. Sadashiv
Rao was a small time politician and the president of the village <i>panchayat</i>. Contracts falling under
government’s social security programmes were awarded to him or his nominees
with the blessings of the political bosses. The district authorities were
aware of his political clout and therefore refrained from crossing his
path. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Sadashiv Rao was a widower. He volunteered to take the
responsibility of the child under his care.<br />
“I am a close friend of the deceased and will take care of the child. He even
went a step further. “I will deposit the sale proceeds of Ramchandra Jagtap’s
farm produce after every crop in a bank account in the name of Aparna and hand
over the same when she becomes a major.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“The child needs a
woman’s love and care. We therefore cannot agree to place her
under your care.” The court decreed, accepting only the second half
of his plea and ordered to put Aparna in the care of the Children Home at
Igatpuri, near Nashik.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">II<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Rajnikant and Kavita,
both engineering graduates were colleagues working for Cairns India
at Nashik. They were married for nine years but had no issue. The couple
finally decided to adopt a child and in that, Kavita wanted it to be a girl
child. They went to the Children Home at Igatpuri and saw Aparna there.
The couple was moved, in fact, fascinated by little Aparna in their first
visit and filed an application for her adoption. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Sadashiv Rao, a
trustee of the Children Home was happy that the couple had selected
Aparna preferring her over other male children. He facilitated and
accelerated the adoption process. When the entire proceeding was completed,
Aparna was less than two years old. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Rajnikant and
Kavita were proud of Aparna; they dotted on her. Aparna was indeed a
bright and beautiful child. Her teachers loved her and so did the neighbours.
The three comprised a happy family. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">As chance would have
it, Rajnikant and Kavita got an international assignment to work in Bosnia
under the World Food Programme. They were happy to land an
international job though they worried that Aparna would miss her friends. But
for better prospects and lure of money they accepted the assignment and
when they left Nashik, Aparna was a bubbly girl of five years. When
Sadashiv Rao came to know of it, he was awfully pleased to see the
back of the family for he always cherished the plan of arrogating the property
of his late friend. Aparna’s going abroad added wings to his dreams. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">One day Sadashiv Rao
went to the land revenue office and ascertained the land details
of late Ramchandra Jagtap. He started cultivating the officers of the revenue department
with occasional gifts and favours. Finally, with his political clout and huge
bribe, he succeeded in getting the land and the orchard of late Ramchandra
Jagtap mutated in his name by forging the documents. Thus, Sadashiv Rao became
the owner of the land and orchard that once belonged to Ramchandra
Jagtap. Aparna, the rightful successor was oblivious of the deceit and
treachery perpetrated by the friend of her father. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Rajnikant and Kavita were worried over
Aparna’s education, which was not possible in Bosnia. There were no good
schools in the country seized of civil strife. They therefore looked for a
change of job. Luckily, a year later, Rajnikant got a job offer at Toronto. The
family moved to Canada and after couple of years decided to settle down there.<br />
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">III<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Years rolled. Aparna
was now seventeen; charming and beautiful, kind and affable. Her parents loved
her and she was popular among her friends. Rajnikant and Kavita thought
she was matured enough to know about her past. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“You are a grown up
girl now. We thought it was time that we told you of your past,”
Rajnikant told her one evening. Aparna was curiously vexed as they unfolded the
story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“We picked you from
the Children Home at Igatpuri. As per their records, you are the daughter
of Ramchandra Jagtap and Rajanibai. They both died in a stampede in <i>Mandher Devi</i> temple. You were merely
five months old then.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Aparna was distraught
but accepted her past gracefully. But now she was keen
to see her place of birth, the village of her parents. After
completing her school, Aparna opted for sociology at the under graduate level.
One evening, she told her foster parents that she was joining a group of
students who were going to India for three months under an ‘Exchange Programme’
sponsored by Indo-Canadian Society for Cultural Relations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“The students will
stay with Indian families. I have opted to work in Nashik,” she told them. They
were aware of her keenness to trace her roots. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Shivaji Rao, a young
business man from Nashik agreed to host Aparna. He was rich and
ostentatious; owned a chain of tourist lodges and large tracts of
farm land in the nearby villages. He was a suave, handsome and
good conversationalist; popular among ladies though he had separated from
his wife on the ground of incompatibility. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">He was the son of
Sadashiv Rao.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Shivaji Rao loved
wine, women and wealth. Aparna appealed to him. In fact, whenever he
saw her in shorts and tea shirts, revealing her curvaceous figure, he was overly
excited. He was desperate to win her favor. He treated her lavishly;
taking her to exclusive restaurants and giving her expensive gifts. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Aparna too was
impressed by Shivaji Rao and liked his company. She often spent her evenings
with him, eliciting information about people and events of the region. She
moved around during day time meeting people and talking to them. She also
visited the <i>Mandher Devi</i>
temple. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">One day she asked
Shivaji Rao whether she had heard of Ramchandra Jagtap. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Shivaji Rao was surprised.
“How do you know him?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“I heard of him from
my father.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“Well! Ramchandra Jagtap and my father were good
friends. Both came from Achera village. Unfortunately, Ramchandra died in
a stampede at <i>Mandher Devi</i> temple. He
had mortgaged his property to repay the loan he had taken from my father.”<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Aparna was saddened to hear the story but
deep in her heart, she was skeptical; not accepting its veracity.
She decided to visit Achera to find out the truth. She didn’t reveal her plan
to Shivaji Rao.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">In Achera, Aparna met
many villagers; elders and young ones. She had carried freebies for them. The
women folk were moved to tears when they learnt that she was the daughter
of late Ramchandra Jagtap and Rajanibai. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“They were a decent
couple and quite well off. You father was a hardworking and a progressive
farmer and a very helpful person. After the death of your father, Sadashiv
Rao forged documents and bribed the revenue officers to usurp your property.
Because of his political clout, we are scared of him and his goons,” they told
her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Aparna was grieved<sup>
</sup>when she knew the truth. She was agonized that Sadashiv Rao, a
friend of her late father had deceived him. She returned to Nashik resolute to
avenge her parents. I have no interest in the land and property but I must
avenge my dead parents. She vowed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Shivaji Rao
was happy and excited to see Aparna back. I must win her over,
whatever that takes. He was determined. Next evening he invited her to his
place; Aparna obliged. Shivaji Rao offered her whiskey, an exclusive brand.
Aparna accepted that too. The intoxicant had its effect on
Shivaji Rao; Aparna’s revealing contours heightened his urge. He held her hand
and wheedled her to stay with him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“I will give you a
bungalow to stay and put a large sum of money in your bank account. I
promise you all worldly comforts,” he implored. Aparna merely smiled and made
another drink for him. Soon Shivaji Rao swooned in to oblivion. Aparna returned
to her room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Next evening, it was
a retake of the previous day and it became a daily fixture. Shivaji Rao would
fiddle with her body but fall short of his intended objective under the
influence of alcohol. But there was an apparent development; Shivaji Rao
wanted more and more of her company and more and more of whiskey from
her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Aparna knew it
was only a matter of time that Shivaji Rao became a captive of his weakness. She
extended her stay in Nashik by couple of months. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Shivaji Rao was
desperate for her company. “Aparna, I can’t live without you; I love you and
want to marry you,” Shivaji Rao repeatedly pleaded before her. He was
mostly in an inebriated condition, unable even to stand on his feet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">This was the time
when Sadashiv Rao, the wily father had delegated his responsibilities
to his only son, Shivaji Rao and proceeded on a long pilgrimage. He was happy
that he had completed the circumambulation of <i>Pundharpur</i>, the holy place successfully. All through his
pilgrimage, he prayed for the wellbeing of his son. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">On his return,
Sadashiv Rao was in for a shock. His servants told him that Shivaji Rao had
been spending most of his evenings in the company of a Canadian girl of Indian
origin. He saw Shivaji Rao in a pathetic condition and was deeply
distressed to know that his son had become an alcoholic. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Shivaji Rao a feeble
man now, wept before his father. “Please persuade her not to leave
me... I am guilty but the fact is, I cannot live without her... please give
whatever she wants... please...” Shivaji Rao couldn’t continue further.
Sadashiv Rao couldn’t hold his tears as he embraced his son. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Next morning Sadashiv
Rao knocked at Aparna’s room. Aparna opened the door for him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“So, you are the
bitch who has ruined the life of my son. You seduced him with your body
charm and made him an alcoholic. I will kill you for that,” he was furious. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“Will that bring
back your son?” Aparna was defiant. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“Why did you do that?
You have nearly killed him. What harm has he done you?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“Sadashiv Rao! I
don’t want your son to die. Instead, I want you to suffer, to repent
for your sins. That will be fair retribution.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“What sins? What
retribution? What are you talking?” Sadashiv Rao was enraged.<br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“Do you remember
Ramchandra Jagtap?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Sadashiv Rao was stupefied by the question. He
paused and then said, “Yes. He was from my village. We were good
friends. So what?<br />
“I am his daughter. You claim to
be his friend and yet you deceived him. You forged documents and usurped his
entire property.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Sadashiv Rao was
shocked. He found himself defenceless. Tears rolled down his eyes. He was
apologetic, “Please take back all the property but don’t leave my son.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“Sadashiv Rao you cannot reverse the clock. You
cheated a dead friend. You did that for your son. I want to ensure
that he is too debilitated to reap the fruits
of your deceit.”<br />
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Sadashiv Rao fell on his knees. “Please punish me but
don’t forsake my son... please. He will not survive without you.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Sadashiv Rao was a
broken man altogether. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“I didn’t have any
knowledge of my father’s property and in any case, I don’t want it. I only
wanted to avenge my dead parents.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">And after a
pause she added, “I am returning to my parents leaving the property
and your beleaguered son with you.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Then looking at
him disdainfully, she walked out of the house; hailed a taxi and left for
the airport.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-87902780442587965922017-03-19T06:01:00.000-07:002017-03-19T06:01:21.301-07:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">IN SEARCH OF A HOMEMAKER <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Satinder
Singh was one of the richest land owners of Gurdaspur district in the state of the
Punjab. He owned over 200 hectare of richly fertile land in the <i>doab </i>region<i> </i>known for its effective canal system. Though the <i>Zamindari
</i>system was abolished long back in India, the land owners crafted means to
hold on to excess land in connivance with the land record authorities. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
big landholders in India influence the lawmakers with their brute monetary prowess.
Lording over scores of bonded labourers, they live an ostentatious life like
feudal chiefs. Thus when Satinder’s wife gave birth to a male child, there were
large scale celebrations in his village with liquor flowing unabatedly and dancing
troupes and band of eunuchs entertaining the villagers for several nights. The
newly born child was named Rajinder Singh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Satinder
Singh, himself a rustic farmer wanted to bring up his only son in an elitist ambience.
He wanted to groom him to become an educated landlord and a sophisticated businessman.
He therefore put Rajinder in an elitist famous boarding school in Kasauli, a
small town in Himachal Pradesh. Satinder
Singh would visit the school couple of times in a year and give handsome donation
to the school. That enhanced the image
of young Rajinder. The teachers and the principal of the school treated him as
a privileged student. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Rajinder
grew a well built tall lad and a promising tennis player. He was in the school
team and with the influence of his father, he became its captain. Rajinder
passed out from the school as a bright and handsome young man. Satinder Singh
was proud of his son.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> Rajinder was enamoured with glamourous army
life and was keen to join it. This was not in consonance with his father’s plans
who wanted him to take care of the family farm and the distillery he had newly set
up. Satinder Singh was aware of his
advancing years and therefore wanted his son to assist him in managing the estate.
But Rajinder was adamant to join the army. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Babey!
Do you want me to see happy?” Rajinder asked his father.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">For
Satinder was unsettled by the question. His eyes welled up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Son!
For me there is nothing more important other than your happiness. If you are
happy by joining army, go ahead. I too will be happy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> Rajinder took the entrance examination and was
selected for training in the National Defence Academy, Pune. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Rajinder
did exceedingly well as a trainee cadet. He was a robust and agile cadet with
remarkable grasp of military manoeuvres.
In the final term of training he was short listed to command the passing
out parade. Rajinder was very happy and so was his father. But then ill luck struck
them. A week before the passing out parade, Satinder Singh died in a car
accident. It was a very sad and hurting moment
for Rajinder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">His
mother wanted him to leave army and look after the estate. It was a difficult
choice to make. Rajinder had to choose between a career in the army and responsibility
of looking after his estate and his ailing mother. He was pressured to choose
the latter. A disappointed and bitter Rajinder returned to Gurdaspur with shattered
dreams. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Rajinder
was averse to farming and a greenhorn to handle the complexities of a
distillery. His ambition to hold the
coveted ‘sword of honour’ in the passing out parade haunted him. Money was no attraction
for him, which his father had left in plenty. He was a restless soul spending
most of his time outdoor to assuage his hurt feelings. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Over
the years, Rajinder recovered from the heart break. He joined city’s elite club
and spent most of his time there. His ailing mother gave him space to get over
his grief before asking him to get married.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Son,
I am not sure how long I will survive. It is my wish to see you married. You
need someone to take care of you after I am gone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Rajinder
was not prepared for it. He felt destiny was cruel to him in snatching away the
glory and happiness of his life. He was in touch with all his batch mates who were
now officers in the army and would go out of his way to invite them and entertain
them in a generous way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
distillery was doing well since liquor consumption was ever increasing in the
prosperous state of the Punjab. Rajinder decided to enhance its capacity by installing
another distillation plant. That required the sanction of the district
authorities and the excise department other than the patronage of political
bosses. He sought the appointment of the district collector to present his case.
On the appointed day, Rajinder reached the collectorate with his senior manager
much before time. They were made to wait for more than two hours. Rajinder was at
the edge of his patience but was advised to keep his cool by his skilful
manager who was accustomed to bureaucratic obduracy. It needled Rajinder’s ego
further to learn that the district collector making him wait was a lady officer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Anjali
Shrinivasan was the collector of the Gurdaspur district; an officer known for
efficiency and honesty. Rajinder expected a word of apology from her for making
him wait that long. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There
was none.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Anjali
heard him and examined his papers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“On
the face of it, the documents seem to be OK. I will recommend your case to the
excise department. They have the final say in the matter. Please see me after
six weeks,” she summed up the meeting. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> The much needed sanction was received though after
a longer wait than promised. Rajinder now
wanted to hold a function to commission the new plant. He invited the minister
in-charge of the excise department, the excise commissioner and the district
collector. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Anjali
Srinivasan belonged to the all-powerful Administrative Service. She was fair,
slim and tall and she was beautiful. Besides, she was a pleasant
conversationalist. Rajinder was attracted towards her. He found out her daily schedule
and learnt that she played tennis in the evening. That was a welcome
coincidence. Rajinder took out his tennis racquets and became a regular to the tennis
court. It was not very long that Anjali was impressed by his skill, stamina and
suave manners. Tennis brought the two closer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Anjali
belonged to a conservative Brahmin family from the South. Whereas she was awed by Rajinder’s opulence, the
latter was overwhelmed by her élan and charm. Their courtship flourished into
intimacy. One evening Rajinder invited her to his place and introduced her to
his mother as his friend. The old lady understood the nuances of their
relationship. She was pleased to see Anjali and wished, her son married her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Rajinder
and Anjali were married with great pomp and show not witnessed by the people of
Gurdaspur in their living memory. It was the talk of the town with almost all
senior bureaucrats and several ministers landing in Gurdaspur. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A
year later when orders were issued shifting Anjali to another district,
Rajinder used his political clout to get the orders rescinded. The young couple
were elated by their success; Rajinder giving all credit to his political reach.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A
couple of months later Anjali was selected for a fellowship by the University
of Duke. It was a highly prestigious fellowship, one that would help Anjali in the
furtherance of her career. Anjali was quite excited; it was a momentous
occasion but Rajinder wasn’t enthused.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Why
do you want to go away? We have
everything one needs in life and it is in fact time we have a family,” he
argued. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Anjali
was flummoxed at the suggestion. But she was not prepared to concede. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Perhaps
you don’t understand how significantly this fellowship will impact my career? Family
can wait, the fellowship will not. Let’s think of raising the family after I come
back,” she said with a sardonic smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Rajinder
wasn’t convinced. Pressing his point further, he said, “Please try to understand
... I am not a male chauvinist... I am making a rational suggestion. Everyone considers you a brilliant officer. Time
now, you prove to be a good homemaker.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I
don’t have to prove anything to anyone,” Anjali retorted and then added
sarcastically, “You think my career is of no importance?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Frankly
speaking, I do think that way. In fact, it is time you left the job,” Rajinder
shot back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Anjali
was furious. “Look, I am dedicated to my career; can’t ever think of quitting
midway. You should have known before marrying me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> Both were adamant. They had frequent
altercations widening the fissures in their marital life. One evening after a
serious altercation, Anjali shifted to the circuit house and flew to USA three
weeks later. She didn’t even come to see Rajinder or his mother before leaving
Gurdaspur.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Rajinder’s
self-esteem was hurt. The hurt was grievous, taking him to a point of no return.
He wrote a nasty letter to Anjali followed by a divorce notice. Anjali never
thought the situation will worsen to that extent. Though the divorce notice pained
her, she signed her consent and sent it back to Rajinder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
two were divorced after a married life of three years. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Rajinder’s
mother couldn’t bear the shock and left for her heavenly abode without seeing a
successor to her family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Rajinder
shifted from club’s tennis court to its bar. He became an alcoholic neglecting
his duties towards his business and the farm. He would be the last man to leave
the bar; mostly helped by his chauffeur or at times by his friends who enjoyed
his perennial hospitality. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Excessive
drinking finally landed Rajinder in a hospital. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">II<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amarjeet
was a trained nurse in the multi-speciality hospital where Rajinder was
admitted. She was a young and dedicated nurse considered highly proficient by
her seniors even at a young age.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> For six days Rajinder Singh was in the ICU under
constant watch of the doctors duly assisted by Amarjeet. He found her around attending
to him whenever he came to senses. Rajinder was impressed by her dedication and
fell in love with her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That
was the beginning of a new story. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After
discharge from the hospital, Rajinder kept in touch with Amarjeet. He would go
to the hospital and look for her. Amarjeet knew that he was a rich businessman of
the town and her sixth sense alerted her that he wanted to meet her for reasons
beyond professional care. She discouraged
him politely but Rajinder wouldn’t give up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One
day when Amarjeet was taking coffee in the hospital canteen, Rajinder came over
and took a seat beside her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Can
I talk to you for a few minutes?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Of
course, you are welcome.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Not
here. Can we meet outside ... any day when you are free?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amarjeet
was reluctant. She wanted to stay away from him but Rajinder pleaded relentlessly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">They
met in the district club. Rajinder told her about his life and that he was a
tired person and wanted to get rehabilitated and that he wanted her help in it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amarjeet
guessed his intentions and pointed out the inequalities in their background.
“We are poor people,” she conveyed to him in many words. Rajinder simply shrugged
off. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I
don’t want more wealth. What I am looking for is a life companion. Please think
it over,” he pleaded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Look,
I lost my mother when I was very young. My father didn’t remarry. Instead, he brought
me up. Now it’s my turn to look after him in his old age. He is my
responsibility,” Amarjeet portrayed her family picture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I
understand. In fact, he can live with us. I have a big enough house.” And then
he requested Amarjeet to take him to her father. “I would like to meet your
father and seek your hand.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amarjeet
took Rajinder to her place. Her father was a small time haberdasher. The father
daughter duo lived in a small room in a downtown locality. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> The old parent was flabbergasted. He was
overwhelmed that the richest man of the town was asking for his daughter’s
hand. “We are impoverished people ... not anywhere near you ... can’t ... even
dream of ...” the old man couldn’t complete as tears rolled down his crumpled
cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I like Amarjeet and that’s enough. I want
your blessings.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">They
met few more times. Amarjeet had started liking him and told him one day that she
was agreeable to his proposal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Both
of them went to Amarjeet’s place and apprised her father of their decision. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I
want it to be a small affair, a quiet marriage in a <i>Gurudwara.” </i>Rajinder’s suggestion was accepted by the poor parent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That evening
Rajinder and Amarjeet went for a dinner. They were sitting quietly musing over
their future life. Rajinder wanted a child from her at the earliest. He wanted
her to be a full time wife, a genuine homemaker.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Amarjeet, I
want you to be free from all encumbrances to give your full time to our
family... I mean after marriage there is no need to work.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Anjali was stunned
by the suggestion. She never expected Rajinder would ask her to quit her job.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Why should you
work? We have enough to live a comfortable life.” Rajinder said laying emphasis
on his affluence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amarjeet
was shocked at the logic advanced by her future husband.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“How
can you talk like this? You think we can weigh everything in terms of money. I
am rendering humble service to the society for which I have been trained.
Besides, all of us have right to cherish an ambition beyond money.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It
was now Rajinder, astounded and gaping at her fiancée. . He could not believe that
a girl from a poor origin could deprecate his opinion. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I
mean, why should you slog when I can take care of all your needs? We can travel
all over the world, lead a luxurious life,” he fumed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Sorry,
you are wrong here. Money cannot substitute human values. I have a duty towards
the society; I cannot pawn it for my personal comforts,” Amarjeet said and left
leaving Rajinder alone at the table. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">III<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Rajinder
Singh, the rich man of Gurdaspur is seen again in the bar until late hours,
waiting for someone to take him to his palatial house. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-49226213959662773692017-03-10T00:41:00.000-08:002017-03-10T00:41:10.186-08:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">MEETING OF THE PARALLEL
LINES<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ajay
Purohit was seventy now, leading a solitary life in Paori, a small hill town in
the foothills of Himalayas. He had relinquished his medical practice in Delhi and
handed over his clinic to his son who was also a medical practioner. In Paori though
he did see the patients coming to him but he didn’t encourage them to revisit him
and since he didn’t charge any fee, his patients didn’t have much confidence in
him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He
loved to see the sun rise from his bed room and as the sun rays entered his
room, he felt elated in body and mind. He would get up, make coffee for himself
and lie down leisurely on his bed, drinking coffee and waiting for the
newspapers. He was a newspaper addict for he disliked TV news channels. He was
irritated by their innumerable repetitions. In fact, he felt the news reporters
were ill-educated and lacked depth and sensitivity. Basic approach of most of
the TV channels was to sensationalize issues to enhance their viewership. He
therefore seldom opened news channels of his TV. He had made arrangement to
fetch newspapers from the market, which came late in the morning. For him reading
newspapers was an engaging past time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ajay
Purohit was a man of few words. In fact, he didn’t speak when he should have
and that was the bane of his life. He knew his family members were more than
unfair to him but he never showed his demur or voiced his dissent. There were occasions
when they disagreed with him even when he was right and yet he gave in most of
the time. Besides, his wife always favoured his son unduly. But in his private
moments, he would mull over the events time and again and get agitated. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Finally
he handed over his clinic to his son and shifted to Paori where he had
purchased a small cottage. He wanted to live a peaceful life. He had engaged a helping
hand as a cook and for the upkeep of the cottage. He would go for a walk in the
evening through the forest lane of fir trees in the east of the town towards
the famous <i>Kinkaleshwar </i>Shiva temple.
This was the best part of his day. Walking in solitude with fresh breeze even
during the summer months and fragrance of the wild flowers invigorated his spirit.
On his way back, sometimes he would go to the market to buy vegetables and grocery.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ajay
had a good collection of old melodies. He spent the latter half of the day
listening to the music. He hardly missed
his family even though he answered their calls. It used to be brief talk bordering
niceties; both sides eager to conclude at the earliest. However, at times he
missed his grandchildren. But he always missed one person all through his life.
He longed to talk to her even though he had no clue of her whereabouts. That was Anita, his school time friend and
neighbour during his childhood days in Dehradun. They loved each other, had
dreams of a life together but could never discuss them together for they were
the cagey youngsters of sixties. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He
remembered watching Anita play with small children and at times feeding the
street dogs. He remembered her ever smiling face and compassion in her eyes. He
had this picture imprinted on his mind and he loved her for it. They would exchange
glances and brief smiles but no words were spoken between them. And when he was to leave Dehradun to join a medical
college in Delhi, he mustered courage and decided to ask Anita to come with him
for a movie. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He
invited Anita for a movie a few days later. For the entire duration of the movie
both of them sat quietly; their eyes were on the screen but their minds were wavering. They were daydreaming; floating along with their
dreams. And finally when the movie was over and they came out, Ajay took her
hand and said, “I am going for the medical course; will be leaving for Delhi by
next month. It is a five year course.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I
know. Your mother told my people,” Anita whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Will
you wait for me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I
would wait for you all my life if it were left to me. But my father is already
looking for a match.” Then after a long pause she added, “He thinks I am old
enough to be married off; doesn’t want me to go to college.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ajay
knew her father. A retired soldier, hardliner, brash and unaccommodating. Anita
had sounded her mother of her love for Ajay but the poor lady lacked courage to
talk to her husband. “He belongs to a different caste. Your father would never
agree,” she cautioned Anita. A month later, Ajay left for Delhi and his father
was transferred a month later to Agra.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">For
nearly two years they exchanged letters.
Those letters were far from being romantic; they were prosaic and
platonic since they were apprehensive of their alliance because of caste
barriers. They could not commit to each other. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ajay
was in the second year when Anita was married off. There was no contact between
them thereafter. He even didn’t know to whom she was married or where she had
moved to. But her memory remained firmly imprinted on his mind. He often remembered
her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After
completion of his medical course, Ajay got a job in Delhi. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Years
rolled on. Ajay was married and had a son who also became a doctor. Ajay left his job and opened a clinic in East
Delhi. His son joined him there. They were doing well professionally and financially
but he always found himself a loner for his profession kept him busy and there
was hardly any compatibility of mind and head between him and his wife.
Luckily, his school friend Dinesh had also joined a private firm in Delhi. The
two often met in the evening. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Dinesh
was the only person to whom Ajay could pour his heart out and in his personal
moments he remembered Anita. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One
evening when Ajay was in his clinic, Dinesh came over after attending a
marriage function. Ajay was also invited but he had regretted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“How
was the marriage? And you seem to have been well looked after. By the way, which
whiskey was it?” He chided Dinesh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“They
missed you,” Dinesh shot back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I
am sorry. There was an emergency in the clinic.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Well
you not only missed the function but also a pleasant surprise.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“What
is that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Well,
met someone who mattered to you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Dinesh,
please no riddles.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Well,
for old time sake let me not lengthen the suspense,” Dinesh said with a wide
grin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ajay
waited.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Anita
was there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
coffee mug Ajay was holding crashed on the floor. He was virtually shaken. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Are
you sure and how do you know it was her?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“First,
I am good at remembering faces and secondly, Anita was my class mate. Can you
forget a dear friend?” Dinesh said with a mischievous smile. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Dinesh
paused and then added, “I talked to her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ajay
kept quiet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“She
lives in Delhi. In fact, she has been living in Delhi for last twenty five
years. Her husband was an army officer. Unfortunately he died few years ago.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> Ajay was still quiet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“And
I have given her your telephone number.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ajay
was a bit upset to hear that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Dinesh,
I always knew you were an irresponsible person. Why the hell did you do that?
What is the need to rake the past?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“She
asked for it.” Dinesh replied playfully.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Dinesh,
you are the biggest idiot I have ever come across.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Thank
you sir but be assured, the compliment is reciprocal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It
was sheer coincidence that Anita met Dinesh in a marriage function and learnt about
Ajay. Old memories soared in their hearts. She was keen to meet him; she longed
for him. Buy she was in two minds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Would he be still
remembering me? How would he react on receiving my call? <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Thoughts
of all kinds were flocking her mind. Finally she got over the dilemma and rang
him after a week. She requested him to come
to her place. Ajay agreed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">They
got in touch after three decades. Their appearance had changed. They had
greyed. Perhaps they might have missed each other while crossing a street or
walking past a shopping mall. Ajay expressed his condolences over her husband’s
death but didn’t know what else to talk. Anita recalled, Ajay was always cagey
and coy. He had not changed much. She talked of her past and of her daughter
who was married and settled abroad. “After my husband’s death, I am living a lonely
life in this small flat,” she told him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Anita
remembered, he liked strong tea. She made one for him. “I have made strong tea
for you but haven’t put sugar. Not sure whether you take sugar in your tea.”
Ajay was moved; that she still remembered his choice of tea. “Yes. No sugar for
me. I am diabetic, in fact, on insulin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">They
met thereafter several times, talked of their past and would leave with an
unsaid promise of meeting again. Ajay
learnt that her husband, an army officer was ever inquisitive; always keen to
go to the depth of the matter. He was a careerist appeasing his superiors and keen
to curry their favour. He would entertain them lavishly and he wanted Anita to
act a perfect hostess; drink, dance and socialize; neo-culture anathematic to
her basic nature. For a girl from a conservative background, it was difficult
for Anita to adapt to her husband’s demands but he was persuasive as well as
aggressive. Unfortunately, the pressure didn’t work. She tried her best but
could never come up to her husband’s expectations for he wanted a un-inhibitive,
trendy, fashionable wife. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I
often thought what life would have been with you,” she told him once. Ajay sighed.
Anita took his hands in hers and suddenly asked him, “What did you find in me?
I mean what attracted you towards me?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ajay
smiled and said, “I saw compassion, love and piety: all combined in you and I
loved you for your soberness.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ajay
talked of loneliness in his life and that he wanted to run away from his family
and move to Paori where he owned a small cottage. She was awfully pained to
hear that and tried to persuade him to stay back. Ajay delayed his departure
but one day when he had heated arguments with his son and wife, he thought it
unbearable and decided to leave. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">II<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ajay
had moved to Paori. His contact with Anita remained through phone calls. Ajay would
wait for her calls. They would have lengthy talks, talking of their lives and acting
as mutual counsellors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One
day Anita surprised him; telling him that she wanted to come to Paori. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I
am missing badly and want to see you,” she told Ajay.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ajay
kept quiet. He was concerned. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Anita
could make out that he was diffident. “Look, I don’t bother about my folks. But
tell me is it alright with you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ajay
paused for few seconds and then he was reminded of his family’s indifference
towards him. He made up his mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“It
is cold here. Bring adequate warm clothing,” he advised Anita.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A
week later, Anita was in Paori. It was a winter evening. Anita was cold. Ajay made
hot tea for her. They talked throughout the
evening. Anita who was always short of
words had turned garrulous; she wanted to keep on talking. Ajay was pleasantly surprised.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Suddenly,
Anita started crying, tears rolling down her cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Ajay,
I missed you all my life; always remembered you.” After pausing a little she
continued, “We were like the two banks of a river, like two parallel lines that
never meet. But a week ago, it suddenly dawned on me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Why can’t we live our
own life?</span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“The
thought changed my attitude towards life. Then and there, I decided to break
the shackles; come out of the fetters and here I am in front of you,” she said
with a smile. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ajay
took her hands in his and kissed them. Anita was overwhelmed. She went in to
his arms. Their lips locked. Time came to a standstill. They forgot the
chilling world outside. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">They
felt warm and cosy; lost in their own sweet world that had deluded them whole
life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-45229915325910394662017-03-02T06:53:00.001-08:002017-03-02T06:53:58.295-08:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">THATCHED
ROOFS AND THE ANITILIA<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Arun Pratap decided to visit his
village after six decades. He was nine years when had left his village along
with his mother to join his father, a poorly paid employee of a private firm in
Delhi. Arun was excited that he was going to see Red Fort, Qutab Minar, <i>Birla Mandir, Rashtrapati Bhavan </i>and
many other monuments he had read about in his books. And above all, he was
eager to see aeroplanes flying in the sky. Never did it ever occur to him that
it will take him sixty years to return to his native village. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">His schooling was in a government
school of Delhi but he was a bright student and on his own merit, he was
selected for law graduation by the Indian Law School, Bangalore. After
qualifying his law examination, Arun started his career as an advocate in Delhi
High Court. Since his parents had returned to their village, he shared a small
room with another bachelor friend. He was doing well in his profession and couple
of years later when he got an offer to join Bradford University Law School as a
research assistant in the Faculty of Oriental Customary Law, he accepted it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">For Arun, life thereafter moved at
a faster pace. He married a British woman of Indian origin; had two sons from
her and purchased a house in Bradford. He was a generous father but could never
become a good husband. Perhaps somewhere
at the back of his mind he perceived his wife to be like his mother; always submitting
to her husband’s command. The differences between them widened over the years
and ultimately, their marriage of fifteen years broke off. He never thought of
marrying again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He became a British citizen and was
honoured for his contribution as a ‘Greenpeace Volunteer’ and his work for the
under educated Asian immigrants. His fame reached the pinnacle when he was
elected Mayor of Bradford City Council. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Arun travelled worldwide and
evinced interest in the technological innovations around the world. As Greenpeace Volunteer he had visited
several nuclear reactors, giant hydro-electric projects; motorways running over
the sea and condominiums piercing the sky. Strange that whenever he returned
home from a trip abroad, he remembered his small village in Betul district of
the state of Madhya Pradesh in Central India. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He was sixty nine now; a frail and
feeble man after a bout of pneumonia and he felt lonely after his wife and later
his sons moved away from him. In fact, he was leading the life of a recluse. Now
he longed to visit his village but there were several impediments. He had no
contact with his folks other than his cousin Satya Prakash who lived in Delhi.
He had no knowledge of the conditions prevailing in his village.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was a cold winter in Bradford.
Arun Pratap was sitting in his study listening to melodies from old Hindi
movies and smoking a cigar. He was found of smoking cigar even against the
advice of his doctor. His wife used to admonish him for it and his children
frowned at him. Now that he was a loner, there was no one to reproach him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As he lit a cigar, he was reminded
of an old incident of his childhood days in his village. His grandfather had
asked him to prepare a <i>hookah</i> for a
guest. He readied the <i>hookah</i> and
sucked it hard. And then he coughed and coughed until he fell on ground,
exasperated. There were tears in his eyes and his lungs were full of
smoke. His grandfather rushed up to him
and the first thing he did was to spank Arun hard couple of times on his hind
side. That was the way children were managed those days. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A thin smile appeared on his face.
He called Satya Prakash and told him of his intention to visit his village.
“Tell me what the conditions are in general? I mean road, housing and water
supply ....”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Road connectivity has improved.
You have to walk less than half a mile.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That was quite encouraging for he
remembered they had to walk nearly twenty miles to come to the bus stand though
he knew walking even half a mile was now a challenge for him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Unfortunately, your house is no
more there. Sixty years of neglect has brought it down. Only walls are there
with weeds all over,” Satya told him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Arun was sad but he knew that was
expected, inevitable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You stay in my house. It has
Indian style toilet but water has to be collected from the drum kept outside
the house.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Arun laughed for he remembered the
good old days they would carry a <i>lota</i>
of water and ease in the open behind some brushes. And it was always a thrill
to bathe in the open in the natural stream, splashing water on each other. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">II<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">On a sunny April morning Arun
Pratap landed at Delhi airport. He was wonder-struck to see the expanse and
elegance of the airport. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Fabulous;
can be compared with the best of the world.
</span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He thought and felt proud. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That night he stayed with Satya. He
didn’t want to hurt his cousin by staying in a hotel. Besides, he wanted to
acclimatize to lesser comfort living. As directed by him, Satya had hired a
jeep for a week to visit their village. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Next day, Satya and Arun started from
Delhi early in the morning. Satya’s wife had made stuffed <i>paranthas </i>for them for lunch. Arun relished paranthas. After nearly
nine hours, Arun was delighted to see his village but the realization that he
had to climb a plateau to reach there depressed his spirits. Walking the craggy
track was painful but Arun didn’t give up. He stopped after every few yards;
took long breath and resumed walking. He was returning to his village after
sixty years. Finally, they entered their destination in the evening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The first look at the village
shocked Arun. He was appalled to see the condition of the houses. Most of them
still had mud walls and thatched roofs. Many roofs were crumbling for want of
maintenance. He could see men, women and children compelled to share space with
cows, oxen and goats. He was pained to see young boys smoking in the village <i>chowk </i>and fooling around in inebriated
condition. Satya could see the grief in Arun’s eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Poverty stalks the village life.
These boys cannot continue schooling. There isn’t any skill development center
here. Some of them do menial jobs and have taken to these iniquities.” Satya
told Arun Pratap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was dark outside and also inside
Staya’s house. There were electric poles in the village but without power.
Satya lit a kerosene lantern and asked Arun to settle down. “I will see if I
can get you a cup of tea from a neighbour,” he tried to comfort Arun. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Satya, can you arrange some hot
water? Hot water bath is very refreshing after a long drive,” he said with a
wry smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Satya laughed aloud. Arun Pratap
was baffled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Skip the bath to night. I will try
to get some hot water from neighbouring house tomorrow,” Satya told him. Arun
realized, perhaps he had asked for too much. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> Next
morning he got ready early and came to the village <i>chowk.</i> He saw children; some of them merely six or less going to
the school through the forest track. Many of them were barefoot; only a few had
<i>slippers.
</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He remembered the situation was
nearly same sixty years ago when he used to go to school. It was the same
track, leading to the school. He had always found it difficult to walk with the
satchel on his back. And then suddenly his mind swerved to his grandchildren
who would not even carry their water bottles and had to be placated with cookies
and chocolates to go to their school in a luxury car. He decided to follow the
children. He gasped for breath
negotiating the rugged track and it was a great relief when he finally reached
the school. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The school was a dilapidated
structure; half of its tin roof opening to the sky. The school teacher greeted
him and asked a boy to bring a glass of water for him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You seem to be too tired,” he told
Arun Pratap sympathetically. Arun Pratap did need water quite badly. He drank
the glass of water even though he was unsure whether it was potable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“This school building is in very
poor shape. Don’t you get funds to repair the building? And what happens during
the rainy season?” He asked the young school teacher.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“We have no say in the allocation
of funds. The best we can do is to gather the children on one side below the
roof when it rains,” the young teacher replied nonchalantly. By then the
headmaster arrived. Arun introduced himself briefly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I am Arun Pratap from Bhatkoti. I
was as student of this school over sixty years ago. Just come to village and
was keen to see the school.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“We are honoured to have you here,”
the headmaster said and offered to take him around. As they went around, he saw
a splintered blackboard hanging on a wall. A teacher had done some multiplication
sum on the board.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“How many classes are here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“This school is up to eighth
class.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You mean eight classes being run
in three rooms?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“During fair weather, we hold
classes in the open also,” the headmaster volunteered the information. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“What about teaching aids?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The headmaster laughed. “Have you
come from <i>villayat?” </i>You seem to be
unaware of the life in villages.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Arun didn’t want to tell him that
he had in fact, come from <i>villayat</i>- a
foreign country. And then he suddenly remembered his grandchildren. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I want my Tablet,” one would
demand and the other would scream for his video game. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “I mean you surely have heard of overhead
projectors or electronic screens or computers? He asked the headmaster.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The headmaster laughed
sardonically. “Yes, we see them on TV.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After a little pause the headmaster
continued, “Sir, you are talking of teaching aids? We don’t have enough chalk
pieces to write on black boards. We pool money from students and buy them from
market and we use worn out ‘<i>pyjamas</i>’
to clean the black boards.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Arun was pained to see the abysmal
condition of the school and then he asked, “Incidentally, what do the students
do in the sports period?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“We ask them to fetch water from
the PHC- the Public Health Centre building. Girls help in making tea and
mopping the classrooms.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Do you have any library?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Having seen the school and the
conditions prevailing here, don’t you think it is a silly question?” The
headmaster had grown bold after the long conversation. Arun was dumbstruck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then he saw a little boy dipping a plastic
mug into the water canister. Arun Pratap noticed that child’s hands were filthy
and after he drank from the mug, the child dropped it in to the canister. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Is this water potable; I mean
properly filtered?” He was getting impatiently curious.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“We are lucky that the PHC guys
allow us to take water from their tap. You think we can ask them whether it is
purified or not?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Arun Pratap knew in several African
countries children had tape worms because the supply was from a stagnating source
and there was no system of purification. He was sad that situation was no
different in his village. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Arun then noticed a board reading
‘Government Public Health Centre’ on the adjoining building. He was curious to
see the PHC. He asked Satya Prakash to accompany him and as they entered the
building, they saw about a dozen villagers waiting to collect medicines. There
was a shabbily dressed middle aged man dispensing medicines to the villagers.
He was the compounder. Arun found out that out of the two doctors posted there,
none was present. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Where are the doctors?” He asked
the compounder. The man’s authority seemed to have been outraged by a
nincompoop asking an impertinent question.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“What have you got to do with the
doctors?” He frowned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I understand there should be two
doctors here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes, but what’s your problem?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Where are they? Shouldn’t they be
here?” Arun Pratap was seemingly curt. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The waiting patients joined him.
“Sir, the doctors are seldom here. In fact, they come in the first week of the
month; indent medicines, pick up their salary and go away to practice in their
home towns.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Arun was taken aback. “Are you
suggesting that you are competent to dispense drugs to patients?” He asked the
compounder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“What drugs? The doctors take away
all the medicines to their personal clinics,” the impatient patients said in
unison. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“In that case what do you do here?’
Arun Pratap asked the compounder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I am here to disburse pain
killers, analgesics, apply bandages or ointments in some cases.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was a distressing revelation.
Arun Pratap was shocked at the quality of medical facilities available to the
villagers even after sixty years of independence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Do you have any female nurse
here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“One female nurse was posted here a
year back but she is yet to join; has appealed for cancellation of her posting.
No one wants to work in these remote areas.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“What do you do in cases of a child
birth; I mean what happens when a maternity case comes here?” He asked the
compounder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“There is an old midwife in the
adjoining village. She comes on call basis. In fact, she knows all the would-be
mothers and knows when an expectant mother is brought here. In some cases, she
helps in child birth at expectant mother’s place.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Arun Pratap was shaken. Satya
Prakash could see tears rolling down his cheeks. He arranged for a chair and
asked Arun Pratap to sit down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Arun had read about India’s
successful Mars Mission. He had read about the increasing number of Indian
billionaires in the Forbes list. He had seen the TV news item splashing <i>Anitilia - </i>as world’s costliest house
owned by an Indian. He knew India had the best of luxury hotels, exclusively
fashionable spas, endearing entertainment parks and beaches; and that India
provided the largest number of software engineers and doctors to the world
community. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="line-height: 115%; margin-right: -0.05pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Why
has my village been left out? In which century are my people living? Why this
uneven distribution of wealth? Will the fosse between the thatched roofs of my
village and the world’s mammoth living abode, Anitilia owned by my own
countryman be ever filled?</span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="line-height: 115%; margin-right: -0.05pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="line-height: 115%; margin-right: -0.05pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Arun Pratap was an anguished man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="line-height: 115%; margin-right: -0.05pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="line-height: 115%; margin-right: -0.05pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">“Let’s return to the village,” he told
Satya Prakash.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-55638964960914855082017-02-23T03:04:00.000-08:002017-02-23T03:04:28.433-08:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">PEOPLE OF LAHARTARA
- THE ABODE OF KABIR <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Imtiaz Khan is a weaver from the holy
city of Varanasi. He lives in Lahartara, once a small locality in Varanasi where
great saint, Sant Kabir lived in the fifteenth century. Most of the dwellers of
Lahartara are Muslim weavers. They can’t be called descendants of Sant Kabir for
two reasons. First, Kabir was a celibate and secondly, Kabir was not a Muslim. Kabir
was not a Hindu either. He was a humane soul who loved all irrespective of caste,
creed or religion. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Imtiaz Khan is a weaver for several
generations. When did his forefathers convert to Islam, he is not aware. But
the loom in his courtyard is over two hundred years old. He is a devout
believer, offers <i>Namaz</i> five times a
day. Imtiaz Khan is poor and so
are most of his kinsmen and </span><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">neighbours</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">The men
weave silk <i>saris </i>and the women do needle
work. They work for Hindu merchants who control the entire business. Imtiaz Khan
and his people are paid on job rate basis. The former make the kill. During marriage
and festive seasons, the profit margin could be three hundred percent or even
more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Sometimes
when tired, Imtiaz Khan rests in the <i>sarai</i>
– the dingy inn in Lahartara. The <i>sarai</i>
is maintained by the <i>Kabirpanthis,</i>
the followers of Sant Kabir. He listens to the famous <i>Kabir Dohas</i>- theological couplets. He understands them and their message.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Sant Kabir
propagated <i>Vedantic </i>philosophy in
layman’s parlance. He brought God nearer to the common man. He was able to
establish a rapport between a common man and the Supreme Cosmic Power through the
medium of human love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Imtiaz Khan
has been warned several times by the <i>Imam
</i>of Lahartara mosque. “You are getting too close to the infidels. Mend your
ways lest I ostracize you from the community<i>.
</i>Don’t forget, you have six daughters to be married.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“I will
issue a <i>fatwa</i> against you, forbidding
Muslim boys to marry your daughters. Remember, the infidels will only use them
for pleasure. They will not marry them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Imtiaz Khan
just smiles. He knows the <i>Imam </i>has an
eye on his second daughter. He has
rejected the proposal. His daughter was not even one fourth of <i>Imam’s</i> age. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Besides, how can listening to</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> <i>Kabir Dohas</i> <i>be a sin?</i> Imtiaz Khan is at his wits end,
he is not convinced.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">On certain
days, Imtiaz Khan spends several hours with Hanuman Das, the Hindu merchant for
whom he and his family work. He accepts tea, snacks and sweets from him,
including the <i>prasad</i> that comes from
the <i>Kaal Bhairav</i> temple. Imtiaz Khan
accepts the <i>prasad i</i>n both his palms
like any Hindu believer and eats with reverence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">The <i>Imam</i> never objected to Imtiaz Khan accepting
<i>Kaal Bhairav prasad </i>for he knew he
survived on donations from people like Imtiaz Khan who in turn had to have
cordial business as well as personal relations with Hindu merchants. Still, Imtiaz
Khan is worried about his daughters. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“The
market is down because the sartorial likes are changing. Hardly any demand for <i>saris. </i>Can’t give you any work. Moreover, we are pitted against Chinese who have
swamped the market. <i>Saris </i>are now
coming in fifty metre <i>thaans</i>- rolls.
Their designs are more attractive and above all, they are cheaper,” Hanuman Das
tells Imtiaz Khan whenever the latter goes for some work or advance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Imtiaz Khan
is familiar with the opening prologue from Hanuman Das. In fact, it is nearly a
repeat for years. Imtiaz Khan smiles briefly in response. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“<i>Malik</i>, our survival is in your hands.
Where else can we go? Unless you give us work, how will our families survive?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Imtiaz Khan
has been working for Hanuman Das since his childhood and his father worked for
Hanuman Das’s father. Unfortunately,
Hanuman Das has no children. He has adopted his nephew. There has been mutual
understanding between the two families apart from human bonding between them. It’s
an unwritten covenant. Religion is no consideration here. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">After
delivering the homily on the prevailing market conditions, Hanuman Das comes to
the substantive part. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“These <i>saris</i> are urgent, required for a
marriage in the coming week.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">And then
he suddenly remembers to add, “The needle work in the <i>saris</i> I gave you last week<i> </i>was
clumsy. Better get a pair of specs for your <i>begum,</i>”
Hanuman Das snaps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Imtiaz Khan
giggles, exposing his stained teeth. He knows it is one of the ways his
employer uses to put down wage hike. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Slimy
old man but considerate nonetheless,” he mumbles within himself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Imtiaz Khan always went to Hanuman Das
whenever he was in financial trouble, which he often was. There was yet another
understanding between the two. Hanuman Das’s acerbic tongue and Imtiaz Khan’s
inane giggling were coexistent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">One late evening Hanuman Das’s wife was
returning from a religious function from her relative’s place on a rickshaw. The
road is narrow and dark. Unfortunately, her rickshaw was hit by a car with such
an impact that the rickshaw toppled throwing the old lady on the ground. The
rickshaw puller a young man was soon on his feet but the old lady lay flat on
the ground howling with pain. The car driver took her to the hospital and rang
Hanuman Das urging him to reach the hospital immediately. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The doctors told Hanuman Das that her
left femur was broken and she needed to be operated immediately. Hanuman Das was person of poor nerve. He was
extremely upset to know that his wife needed to be operated and that he should
find volunteers to get three bottles of blood from the blood bank. He
remembered Imtiaz Khan. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">He
alone can help me at this deathly hour</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">. He thought and rang him narrating the
whole scenario. Imtiaz Khan reached the hospital and saw Hanuman Das sitting on
a bench, nervous and downcast. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“The doctors want three bottles of
blood. Where do I find the volunteers at this hour of the night?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Imtiaz Khan took the hand of Hanuman Das
in his and told him to relax and not to bother. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“I and my two sons will donate the blood
and if need be I will call half a dozen boys of Lahartara. Please tell the
doctor that the volunteers are ready. He can start with me and in the mean time
I will ring my sons to come over and also alert the boys of the locality.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The operation was successful. Hanuman Das’s
wife was discharged from the hospital after a week. A couple of days later,
Hanuman Das asked Imtiaz Khan if he could compensate him for the blood
donation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“<i>Malik</i>!
Please don’t hurt me by offering money for a small act of humanity. What’s the
use of our long relationship if we cannot come to each other’s help?” Pausing a
little, he added, “Don’t we live in Lahartara, the abode of Kabir?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">II<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Akhtar, Imtiaz Khan’s son was a very
active lad, known for activities outside his <i>madrasa, </i>especially in climbing trees. He was called when <i>jamun </i>or mango trees were fully laden.
Akhtar didn’t believe in plucking fruits singularly. He would climb a tree and
shake its branches. The ripe fruits would fall on ground in hordes. The Lahartara
boys called him a baboon. Young Akhtar would
swing to the farthest branch and shake it. Caution or fear had no place in his
psyche. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">In one of such foolhardy adventurous
move, Akhtar was on the top branch of a mango tree. It had rained precious
evening. The bark was wet and slippery. Before Akhtar could get a firm grip on
the branch he wanted to shift to, he lost control and fell to the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The news of Akhtar’s fall upset the
entire family He was the youngest child of Imtiaz Khan. In fact, he was born
after six sisters before him. Akhtar was thus a pampered child. They all ran
out to the place of accident. Akhtar was lying on a cot. He was in severe pain,
howling hoarse. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Imtiaz Khan took him to a nearby clinic.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“There is a major fracture in his thigh
bone, needs immediate surgery.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> As
usual Imtiaz was out of pocket. He had taken a loan from Hanuman Das the
previous week for the festival of <i>Eid</i>.
The family wanted to have a nice meal after a long time. Imtiaz Khan had spent the
money on food and small gifts. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The clinic attendant asked him to
deposit thirty thousand rupees. Akhtar was crying in terrible pain piercing Imtiaz
Khan’s heart. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“The child is in severe pain. Please
start the treatment. I will deposit the money at the earliest possible,” he
begged. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Please deposit the money first. Nothing can be done before that. This is the
policy. I am a mere employee,” the clerk at the counter told him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Imtiaz Khan left Akhtar in the
hospital with his family members. His only hope lay in Hanuman Das. He took a
rickshaw and asked him to pedal fast to the <i>sari</i>
<i>bazaar</i>. <i><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">How
I am going to plead and be prepared for the tongue lashing from Hanuman Das? </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> All through he was preparing himself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Hanuman Das was sitting with his <i>munshi,</i> taking stock of the day’s sale
and cash. Imtiaz Khan’s sight was ominous. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> “What makes you come here at this
unearthly hour,” Hanuman Das asked in his normal caustic way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> <i>“Maliki…
Malik… Malik … </i>Imtiaz Khan could not continue. There was lump in his
throat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Stop this <i>nautank</i>i. I know you excel in histrionics. Don’t ask for money.
That’s the last thing I want to talk about.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> “<i>Malik</i>,
Akhtar is in hospital. He has broken his leg. The doctor wants advance before starting
the treatment.” <i> <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Hanuman Das gave
a searching look at Imtiaz Khan. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Bloody dirty trick, once again. I say
aren’t you ashamed of yourself. What happened to the advance I gave you last
week? You think I have a mint here? Get
lost.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Imtiaz Khan was crestfallen to see
his only hope crashing. He made another attempt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> “<i>Malik,</i>
please help me. He is my son. Sooner or later he will work for you. My ancestors
worked for your ancestors. My father worked for your father and I have been
working for you. One day Akhtar will work for your descendants. Please help me…
please…,” he couldn’t continue. The helpless father burst in to tears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Hanuman Das didn’t react. He was
back to his business, counting the day’s collection. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Heartbroken, Imtiaz Khan turned back
empty handed. He didn’t know what he could do to help his son. Suddenly he
remembered he had collected five silk <i>saris</i>
from Hanuman Das, the previous week. They were all costly ones. Imtiaz Khan
decided to do what had never happened in his family. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> He sought the forgiveness of <i>Allah</i> the merciful and decided to pawn the
<i>saris</i> to Radha Kishan, another merchant,
one of the competitors of Hanuman Das in the <i>sari bazaar.</i> He narrated his woes to him and pleaded to accept the <i>saris</i> as surety for a loan. Radha Kishan
saw the <i>saris</i> and told Kabir, “I will
give you twenty thousand.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Malik, these <i>saris</i> are worth eighty thousand in the market. Please at least give
me thirty thousand. I need that much to give to the clinic.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> “Imtiaz Khan, make up your mind. I
will not give a penny more. Decide.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Imtiaz Khan had no choice. As he was
picking the money, Radha Kishan asked him to sign a paper. “This is the acknowledgement
of pawning these <i>saris</i> to me of your
own volition.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Imtiaz Khan looked at the paper. The
amount received was mentioned as thirty thousand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> “<i>Malik,</i> please give me the amount I am
signing. I need it badly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Radha Kishan snapped at the money. “Get
lost. You need money and still dictate terms. Listen, you will get it on my
terms. Take it or leave it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Imtiaz signed the paper, picked the
money and rushed to the clinic. On his way, he was contemplating the plea he
would make before the doctor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> <i>I will mortgage my house in doctor’s favour.
</i>He decided. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Imtiaz Khan’s heart sank as he saw none
of his family members in the courtyard outside the clinic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">It
seems the doctor has turned them away.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">He went to the counter clerk who smiled
and said, “All is well. The doctor has taken your son to the operation
theatre.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">How
could that be? I am yet to deposit the security money.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Imtiaz was
flummoxed. He rushed inside. There he saw his elder son and daughters. They had
a glint of satisfaction in their eyes. And then he saw Hanuman Das ambling out
of doctor’s chamber. Imtiaz Khan’s heart froze. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Has
he come to know of my misdeed? Oh God, how am I going to explain it to him?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“The doctor says Akhtar will be all
right. He will run … no, no climb the trees as usual.” Hanuman Das said grinning.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Imtiaz Khan could not meet him in the
eye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“<i>Malik</i>,
I am a sinner… I have done the meanest thing in my life… never done by anyone
in my family. I… I have betrayed your
trust…” Imtiaz Khan could not continue. He was cursing himself, sobbing and hitting
his forehead with both his palms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Imtiaz Khan, take care of your son and
yourself. God willing, Akhtar will be up and kicking in a week.”<br clear="all" style="page-break-before: always;" />
Imtiaz Khan was speech less. And then Hanuman Das whispered, “Don’t worry about
the <i>saris</i> you pawned. My man followed
you after you left abruptly. I wanted to
check the veracity of your story.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Hanuman Das waited and then continued,
“You only did what any father would have done for his child. Don’t worry. I
have retrieved the <i>saris </i>after settling
the matter with Radha Kishan.” And then
he added with a smile, “I have settled the matter with the hospital also.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Imtiaz Khan was dumbfounded. He was shaken
to the core; visibly moved. “I am extremely sorry. I was helpless.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Hanuman Das came forward and patting him
on his shoulder he said, “I am not a <i>Kabirpanthi
</i>but let me do this much,” he said leaving the hospital. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Imtiaz Khan looked at Hanuman Das
leaving the hospital and thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Why
did he do so much for me? How did parental love sprout in this childless parent?
</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">And brooding over the matter for a long
it occurred to him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Of
Course, he too belongs to Lahartara, the abode of Kabir.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-90704948474847060722017-02-13T16:24:00.001-08:002017-02-13T16:24:04.717-08:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">THE
FINE GESTURE<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">MV
Bangkok<i> </i>on its onward journey to Italian
Port of Augusta had called on Port of Kutch in India for bunkering. The crew enjoyed
spicy curries and company of voluptuous women for two days and sailed off to
its destination. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">An
hours in to sea, the captain of the ship saw a fishing boat heading in his
direction. The boat waved a white flag,
which was a message for the captain of MV Bangkok that the master of the boat
wanted to discuss something important with him. As the fishing boat neared MV
Bangkok, a rope ladder was lowered to enable the master of the fishing boat to
climb the ship. On board, the master of the boat bargained with the captain of MV
Bangkok to take on board twelve men for a price. The deal was struck and the fugitives
were allowed to board the ship. All of them were interned in the lower deck of
the vessel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
fugitives survived on a loaf of bread, piece of cheese and a mug of coffee given
to them at the day break. No one was allowed to go to the upper deck. After eleven
horrifying nights they neared the Italian shore. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Suddenly
the vessel was surrounded by the Italian Coast Guard. There was commotion and
panic. The captain rushed to the lower deck and apprised the fugitives of the
situation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“The
Italian government is very tough with the fugitives. It is much better that you
take a chance and find some tramp to escape; there are plenty of them
floating around. I suggest you split in small groups. That will make it easier.
And I will give all of you life jackets to help in your escape.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
fugitives appreciated the gesture of the captain and picked up a life jacket each
and jumped off the ship. There being no other option in any case. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Only
three fugitives survived the cruel sea and were apprehended by the Italian
Coast Guard. They were tried and sentenced for life for illegal entry and
smuggling heroin found stuffed in their life jackets. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-89305414254847717782017-02-12T19:11:00.002-08:002017-02-12T19:11:20.307-08:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">THE LAMAS OF DHANKAR
GOMPA <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: right;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">By
B S Thapliyal <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
Krishnamachari was an orphan. He was brought up by his maternal uncle. Since his childhood he was an
introvert, mostly glued to his books but with brilliant academic performance. After
post-graduation, he was appointed as a lecturer in Government Degree College, Madurai;
a small town in South India known for its Hindu temples. After college hours, Sudarshan
gave most of his time studying Buddhist literature and visiting Buddhist
shrines during vacations. Even
though he belonged to a chaste Brahmin family, he was an ardent Buddha follower.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.1pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.1pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He had studied all the five sects
of Buddhism in general but he believed in the doctrines of </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Theravada sect, which </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">gave an individual, freedom to find his own way to
enlightenment and <i>nirvana- </i>emancipation
from the cycle of birth and death. He was also convinced that Buddha was a
normal mortal who attained enlightenment and should therefore be respected and not
worshiped. Sudarshan didn’t believe in the re-incarnation theory and hence his
heart remained away from the Mahayana sect
even though it is the largest sect of Buddhism. His interest lay in Tantric Buddhism,
which is a mix of Indian Buddhism and Tibetan beliefs evolved in seventh century.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.1pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Tantric Buddhists worship by
reciting prayers and sacred texts, along with chanting of hymns. They meditate sitting
in circular formation signifying the shape of the universe. The Lamas blow
trumpets, play drums and dance wearing masks while performing rituals to scare
away spirits. They extol the supernatural by mystical incantation, which endows
them with magical charms. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.1pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.1pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sudarshan </span><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">found out from
the web site of Himachal Pradesh Tourism that there was an eleventh century monastery
in the Spiti Valley on the left bank of a Pin River resting on an overhanging
cliff. The pictorial depiction fascinated him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.1pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 8.1pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan decided to visit the
monastery. But he had no money. He learnt that July-August were the ideal
months when the weather in the valley was moderate. He applied for leave; sold his car, the gas
oven and his refrigerator; the only material assets he possessed and left on
his mission in the last week of July without waiting for the formal sanction of
the leave he had applied. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Dhankar
Gompa is about two hundred kilometres from Shimla. An inner line permit is
required to go beyond Rampur Bushair, a small town on the bank of Sutlej River.
Sudarshan obtained the permit from the district authorities and took the
morning bus from Shimla to Kalpa, the district head quarter of Kinnaur district
and reached there by late evening. He purchased some dry fruits and biscuits
from a local shop and the next morning took a bus going to Samdoh and further
to the ancient town of Tabo. The road is narrow and hazardous, fraught with the
risk of frequent landslides. Luckily,
Sudarshan was in Tabo by late evening without much hassles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
had learnt that there were a few houses which accepted paying guests and that
the Headmaster of Tabo School was a very informed person. Sudarshan went to him
and sought his help in his mission. The Headmaster told him that a private
lorry was likely to go to ‘Dhankar’ village in couple of days and arranged a
lift for him to the famous monastery. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">It
was beginning of August, the summer month in the Spiti valley. Days were warm
and bright but there were still snow humps on the shadowed patches. The valley
was however getting lively with trees getting new green coat and locals coming
out of their houses along with their goats and yaks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Tabo
monastery is on a plateau. On its one side is the government school and little
away is a picket of Indo-Tibet Border Police.
Sudarshan had lively discussions with the Head Lama of the monastery but
noticed that he was not willing to discuss the tantric practices known or
exercised in the monastery. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Isn’t
it true that a sect of Buddhism practices tantric powers and some of the Lamas possessed
supernatural powers?” Sudarshan asked the Head Lama.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
Head Lama just smiled without responding. Sudarshan could not elicit any
information from him on the subject. During
his stay in Tabo, he spent his time talking and discussing various aspects of
Buddhism with the monks there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Next
morning Sudarshan took a lift in a truck going to Dhankar village, which is at
an elevation of 3800 metres in the Spiti valley on the bank of Pin River. It is
a small village with a head count of less than hundred. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
village chief spoke little bit of Hindi. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“A
new monastery has been built on the plains of the Pin River. The scrolls and
other scriptures have been shifted to the new monastery,” the village chief told
Sudarshan and then added, “This has been done for the safety of the devotees
since the path leading to the old monastery is hazardous. Moreover, the old
monastery is in a dilapidated condition.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“I
want to visit the old monastery,” Sudarshan told the village chief. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
village head stared at Sudarshan. “No one is allowed to visit the old
monastery.” He sounded crusty. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
deemed it proper to let the matter rest at that point and decided to take it up
with the senior Lama of the new monastery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Next
day Sudarshan went to the new monastery and spent the whole day there. His
interest and knowledge of Buddhism impressed all and sundry. At the close of
the day he went to the Senior Lama and requested him to permit him to see the
old monastery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> “I am writing a book on ancient Buddhist monasteries.
It will be incomplete if I don’t include Dhankar Gompa in my book.” He pleaded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“We
don’t allow non-Buddhists to enter the old monastery. Besides, one should be a
member of our order.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“I
am devout Buddhist even though I was born in a Brahmin family. I have presented
more than twenty papers on Buddhism in the international seminars. And if you
insist, I am willing to convert; accept Buddhism right now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“What
is your area of interest?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“I
am working on the tantric powers of your sect. I understand Dhankar Gompa was
one of such centres of Tantric Buddhism.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
Senior head Lama paused, gave Sudarshan a hard stare and then closed his eyes.
Both sat motionless. The Senior Lama looked in a trance like state as Sudarshan
sat waiting expectantly for a favourable outcome. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> “Good. Come here before Sun rise. Make sure
you have no camera, no recording gadget and no pen or paper,” the Senior Lama told
Sudarshan with a feeble smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
nodded quietly and left with a bow. Next morning Sudarshan reached the new
monastery where the Senior Lama was waiting for him. “Come let’s go to the
river,” he told Sudarshan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
water of the Pin River was cold; colder than the ice water from a fridge. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Take
out all your clothes and have a dip and stay in water until I ask you to come
out,” the Lama told Sudarshan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
obeyed. While in water, he felt as if his body was shrinking and the time had
frozen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“May be, the
Senior Lama has forgotten me. </span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan was on the verge of
collapsing when the senior Lama appeared. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Death
is of the body; the soul is imperishable,” The Lama spoke as he came near
Sudarshan. And then after a little pause he handed Sudarshan a white cloth
sheet to wrap around and signalled him to follow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">They
walked quietly to the old monastery ascending the cliff hanging over the Pin
River. Sudarshan was overly frightened to walk over the terribly narrow path
with gorges on either side. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Fear
visits when desires supplant the mind. There is no fear if you desire nothing,”
the Lama spoke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Has he read my
mind?</span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">
Sudarshan was surprised by the Lama’s words.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">They
entered the monastery. Sudarshan was gleefully happy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">I am close to accomplishing
my mission. </span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Inside
the monastery was a giant Buddha statue with oil lamps lit all around in
glistening golden pots. On one side were few <i>bhikshus</i> sitting in a circular pattern on woollen mats meditating
and behind them was a Lama sitting on a podium.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He
was the Head Lama of the monastery. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">There
was a mat lying unoccupied. The Head Lama beckoned Sudarshan to sit on it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
was still naked with the white sheet wrapped around him. He was uncomfortable
but his mind was agog, expecting exhibition of some supernatural powers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Supernatural
is something to be experienced within. It’s not for exhibition. It is within
you, don’t seek it out side.” The Head Lama spoke looking at Sudarshan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Was it
telepathy? How was he able to read my mind?</span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> Sudarshan was
surprised once again.<i> <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Meditate
and seek answers to all your queries from within,” the Head Lama spoke with a
smile this time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
closed his eyes. He feigned meditation. He was a near atheist; never had gone
to any temple in his adulthood and had little faith in the domain of
meditation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Suddenly
he sailed into his past. He remembered the banyan tree of his village temple
and felt as if he was sitting on one of its branches. Then he felt the banyan
tree was taking him through his life journey. He saw his mother waiting with
his clothes after his bath and his father holding his lunch plate. He saw his
friends in his school playground. He saw his college and the college where he
taught. And then he saw all his folks and friends receding slowly behind the
skyline. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
was shaken; his whole body was trembling. He opened his eyes and saw himself
sitting on the woollen mat inside the monastery. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Then
his eyes got closed again and he felt the mat was getting warmer and soon it
became unbearably hot. He started sweating profusely; the white sheet of cloth
fell off his body. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Thereafter
he forgot everything; his personal life, his people and his ambition. Nothing
existed but a cool blue light before his eyes; blissful and serene. All his
strains had disappeared. There were no questions and no doubts remained in his
mind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">There
was a smile on his gleaming face. Sudarshan felt he was levitating in the air. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
Head Lama came down from the podium and gave him a golden rob to put on.
Sudarshan wanted to stay for some more time in the monastery in front of the
large Buddha statue but the words wouldn’t come to him. .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“You
can stay here until evening prayers,” the Head Lama told him without his
asking. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
was not surprised now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He
bowed before the Lamas. He shared lunch with the monks and then joined the
evening prayer with them. After incanting of mantras was over, there was
absolute silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Everyone
in the monastery took his seat and started meditating with eyes closed.
Sudarshan followed. It was a genuine effort on his part this time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">It
was blissfully quiet; pin drop silence in the monastery. Sudarshan had no idea
how long it was. He experienced a glowing light passing in front of his eyes
and when he opened his eyes, he saw himself sitting in front of the Buddha
statue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">And
then he realized he was all alone. There was not a single living being in the
monastery. Sudarshan smiled. It reflected his inner happiness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He
came out of the monastery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">It
was pitch dark outside save the twinkling of the stars high in the sky. Walking
alone in the dark over the dangerously precarious path didn’t bother him not
did the Pin River, swishing past the rocks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He
walked over the log-bridge to cross the Pin River devoid of fear and reached
his lodging place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Next
day Sudarshan was on his return journey. Travelling past the valley, he was
reflecting over his experience at the Dhankar Gompa monastery with a serene
smile on his face. <i> </i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
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<br /></div>
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B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-63275690996263398982017-02-05T04:58:00.004-08:002017-02-05T04:58:53.918-08:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;">THE UNKEPT PROMISE </span></b><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;">He was going to Kasauli, a small hill town in the
state of Himachl Pradesh on an invite from the Director of the Potato Research
Institute, popularly known as PRI. His cab had just crossed the narrow market
of Kalka town and entered the hill stretch of the highway going to Dharampur,
Shimla and beyond.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;"> <i>After how long am I coming here? When did I
leave Kasauli? </i>He tried to recapitulate the memories of his earlier stay in
Kasauli. And then he made a mental calculation. Yes, it was nearly thirty years.
After long thirty years, he was going to Kasauli. Suddenly, the cab swerved
left negotiating a sharp curb, jolting his body and mind and shaking him out of
reverie. He had just survived a rogue truck hitting his cab head on. He
cautioned the cab driver to go slow and a little later, he was back surfing his
memory lane.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;">After completing his post-graduation from Agriculture University,
Pant Nagar, he was offered a position of Research Assistant in the PRI Kasauli.
He liked hills intuitively and therefore the offer gladdened him. Basically, he
was an introvert who loved peace and tranquility of small towns; nothing
better if it were a small hill town. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;">He remembered he used to change bus for Kasauli at
Dharampur from where a small road on the left takes off for Kasauli; about 10
miles from Dharampur. There was a road side <i>dhaba
</i>at Dharampur known for its spicy <i>paranthas
</i>and<i> </i>liberal helping of butter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;">And he remembered the locals of Kasauli were proud of
their town. They considered it to be the most serene, peaceful and also the cleanest
hill station in India. In fact, those days, there used to be a billboard
hanging at the entry of the bus stand asserting that claim. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;">His memories were unfolding like a replay of a movie
cassette. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;">It was around eleven in the morning when he had
arrived at Kasauli bus stand. The sun was out but it was mild and even though
it was the month of June, there was a nip in the air. He had hired a coolie and
was received by a peon at the dilapidated wooden gate of the PRI. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;">“<i>Saheb ji!</i> <i>Namaste,” </i>an old man greeted him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;">“Namaste.
</span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;">What’s your
name?”<i><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;">“Saheb
ji,</span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;"> I am Mohan Lal.
You have been allotted room number 7; it is on the first floor. I have kept it
ready. I will bring your luggage and also a cup of tea.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN;">“Thank you Mohan Lal. I hope the geyser is working for I am tired
and want to have a shower. Please bring the tea after that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i> </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">He had felt refreshed after a hot shower and sat in the balcony that opened to the valley. Mohan Lal had brought tea and a plate of <i>pakoras</i>. With cool breeze around, it was simply delightful to have hot <i>pakoras</i> with steaming hot tea in a glass tumbler. The lush green meadows with wild berry bushes; the vast expanse of the valley with fir and <i>deodar</i> trees swaying rhythmically along the breeze made an incredibly beauteous picture. He was thrilled. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Mohan Lal had told him that lunch would be ready in an hour and that there were three other scientists staying in the Institute Mess. Sumit was not sure if there was a dress code for the dining hall even though he knew the scientists were quite casual about such niceties. However, as a measure of abundant precaution he put on his jacket and shoes. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">The dining hall was austere with coir matting on the floor and a music system at one corner. The cabinet by the side of the music system had some LP and EP records and few cassettes. An old time melody was playing. He liked its lyrics as well as the music; it was in fact one of his favourites. He was amused that someone from the group had taste similar to his. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“I am Sumit Dubey,” he introduced himself shaking hands with both the male members and then folded his hands in <i>‘namaste’</i> to the lady scientist. Few words were spoken as they took their lunch. After the lunch was over, the senior scientist asked him if he would like to join them for a stroll to the market. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“Or else, we can get you anything you need, that is if you are tired,” the lady scientist suggested. She was Priya.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“I would love to join you,” he responded quickly for he was quite eager to be in the company of his future colleagues. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Those days, Kasauli had a small market of twenty odd shops including a small restaurant, a confectionery shop and a couple of tea vendors. No vehicle was permitted beyond the market towards the residency area unless permitted by the municipal board of the town. That in fact was the special feature of the town. One could stroll leisurely on the road leading to the ‘Monkey Point’. It was a stretch of nearly two miles called ‘The Mall’. Sitting on the roadside benches and sipping tea or enjoying roasted peanuts were other novelties of the place. The tea vendors knew every scientist by name and they knew who took what quantity of sugar or milk for that matter in his tea.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Priya was an affable and helpful person, which made her quite popular among her colleagues and the staff. She was an excellent cook and was therefore given the additional charge of the mess. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Sumit was allocated to a prestigious project engaged in the research for developing hybrid potatoes in collaboration with the Israel Institute of Agrological Sciences for Developing Arid Lands. Priya had been working on that project for some time. Soon Priya and Sumit jelled well professionally and beyond the office. They were teamed for organizing cultural programmes, excursions etc. The two understood each other even without exchanging words. Slowly, they were coming close to each other.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">The PRI was to organize an international seminar where the number of delegates was expected to cross the hundred mark. Since Kasauli was too small for such an event it was decided that the seminar be held at Chandigarh. Priya was made head of the logistics team with Sumit to assist her. In the process, they had to go to Chandigarh often. The two worked harmoniously for long hours; travelled at short notice and had to forego holidays and meals at times. The event was a grand success. The PRI Director acclaimed their work highly in the concluding session. The event had also brought them closer.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Priya was a keen music lover and Sumit knew it. He had a transistor and they would sit in the lawn in the evenings and listen to the music. Once when Sumit was proceeding on leave, he thought of leaving the transistor with Priya but was too cagey to give it to her personally. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“Please make use of it; I will feel good,” he wrote on a piece of paper and kept it along with the transistor outside her room. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Sumit often thought of Priya and missed her whenever she was away. On several occasions, he wanted to open his heart to her but he was ever conscious of her affluent background and his humble origin. He was too diffident to muster courage and express his feelings for her even though he desperately longed for her.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">One evening, when they were having tea in the lawn, Mohan Lal brought an envelope to Priya who opened it; there was a greeting card and a letter in it. Sumit knew Priya’s birthday fell on coming Sunday. In fact, he had promised to take her to Shimla for a movie. Priya too had agreed. Sumit had chosen it to be the occasion to open out his heart to her. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Priya looked at the card and then read the letter accompanying it. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“Birthday greetings, I suppose?” </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“Yes,” she replied with a brief smile. Sumit could notice that she was not her normal self. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“From your parents, or a relation, I mean...,” he mumbled.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“Well, sort of...,” she said and then picked a magazine and started scrolling it. It was a message for Sumit not to broach the topic anymore. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Sumit noticed that Priya was in a pensive mood next two days; even avoiding him. That made him anxious and apprehensive. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Who could it be? A close relation, a friend or may be her fiancé. But she chooses not to reveal it. He was agonised to no end. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Surely there is someone else in her life and she doesn’t want to share it with me. In such a situation, I will only be making a fool of myself and rather embarrassing her. He was overly agitated and finally decided to drop the idea of the taking her out.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Next day, he told her over the breakfast, “Priya! I am sorry; we may have to drop the idea of going to Shimla.”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“Why? You OK?” Priya was a bit perplexed. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“I am OK.... but I am not very comfortable ... It may be embarrassing for you in some way.” </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Priya looked at him and after pausing a little she asked him, “Is it something to do with the greeting card, I received?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Sumit struggled for words for he knew she had guessed it right. “Well... may be some other time... I am sorry,” he said apologetically.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Priya finished her breakfast quietly. Sumit felt uneasy over his own decision and realized that Priya had not appreciated it.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"> “I say, you don’t have to be so evasive about it.” She coaxed him. Sumit simply smiled; a naive smile lacking conviction. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Sumit did take her out for dinner but it was to the only restaurant in Kasauli and he presented her a bouquet but the bonding between them didn’t remain the same. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">A couple of months later, Priya was promoted and asked to join PRI, Modipuram, a small township in Uttar Pradesh. Everyone was sad at her leaving. She had been in PRI, Kasauli for more than five years and had won everyone’s heart. Sumit admired her humane warmth and his heart had capitulated wholly to her affability and appeal. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">He accompanied her up to Dharampur. Very few words were exchanged between them during this part of the journey and finally, as he was getting out of the cab, she took his hand and whispered, “Sumit! Thanks a lot. You have been very nice; I will miss you. Take care and keep in touch.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Sumit watched her go away from him as the cab took a southward turn and disappeared in the folds of the hills. He took a bus back to Kasauli. He remembered her parting words; he was crestfallen.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Keeping in touch wasn’t that easy those days. Nearly a year later he received her marriage invitation card. He responded by sending her a greeting telegram - that was the mode and custom those days. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Years rolled by. He himself got married, had a family and was transferred to Poona and after three years, he was selected for an international assignment in South Africa. He returned to India after six years and joined at Delhi as an advisor in the Ministry of Agriculture. The first thing he did on joining his new office was to ring Priya.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">II</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">He returned to consciousness as the cab stopped in front of the same dhaba, at Dharampur. It was now a large eating joint with assorted food choice. It was overly crowded and noisy with TV blaring movie songs. Being a diabetic, he avoided eating outside and therefore ordered a cup of coffee without sugar. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">As he sipped the sugar less coffee, he was reminded of his days in Kasauli when he would come to that dhaba with Priya on his bike and have <i>paranthas</i> or <i>pulao</i> with multiple rounds of coffee. A smile appeared on his face as he left the dhaba for his onward journey. After retirement he normally avoided public appearances but there were special reasons for accepting this invite. First, the Director was his junior in good old days and would not take a ‘no’ from him. Secondly, but importantly, he knew Priya had settled in Kasauli. That she had acquired a small cottage and was living a lonely life since her children had settled abroad. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Next day after delivering his lecture in the forenoon, he expressed his desire to go round the town. He had found out the general location of Priya’s cottage from the Director and opted to walk up to the place. Kasauli, he noticed had undergone some changes but had not been savaged by the land mafia because the local authorities didn’t allow new construction in the town. Sumit was happy to see the lush green forest belt on the skyline. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Priya was sitting on a chair on the terrace of her cottage. There was a tea pot and a mug on the table. She had greyed, gained some bulk but the inimitable smile was intact. She looked up as Sumit stood before her. They stood frozen. And finally when she spoke; it was a near shriek. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“How come you are here? What an unimaginable pleasant surprise? How could you locate me?” She blurted hugging him. It was a close, uninhibited hug.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Sumit was quiet but shaken to the core. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“I am so happy to see you after so many years,” She was ecstatic. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Sumit told her the purpose of his visit- but only the first half of it.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“Now that you have come to Kasauli after so many years, why don’t you stay here for some time? Be my guest.” Sumit hesitated. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“Won’t you have problems? I mean, we living together? You know, how small this town is. It will be the talk of the town tomorrow.” Sumit spoke with a wry smile. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“You haven’t changed Sumit; still the same good old bashful bumpkin. I say, why can’t we stay together? It’s our life; why should we be bothered if someone has a problem in our staying under a roof?”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">That evening they were the young scientists of PRI Kasauli. The clock had rolled back. After a couple of drinks, Sumit regained his poise and asked her, “Tell me, wasn’t that greeting card from your fiancé?”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Priya seemed to be stressing her memory cells. And then she laughed and ughed exuberantly; unlike her as Sumit knew her. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“How naive of you? ... In fact, awfully stupid.” Then pausing a little she asked, “So it was because of that card that you backed out of your promise? That was utterly foolish… Oh God!”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Sumit fumbled for words. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“You know Sumit, your suddenly backing out that evening had surprised me; in fact, it had hurt me even though I could guess the reason.”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Perhaps with a long passage of time or emboldened after couple of drinks or maybe it was combination of both; Sumit exclaimed, “Oh God! You know... I had decided to propose to you that evening ... but for that greeting card……. It upset me terribly. I was edgy and restive to know who the sender was. And when you chose to be unforthcoming, I inferred it was from your fiance..”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“Sumit! I always knew you were cagey but I never thought you were so stupid and imbecile.” And then having a large drag of vodka she said, “Damn it, it was from my adopted son; an infant I had picked up from a garbage dump. I took care of him and had put him in a boarding school. The greeting card and the letter were from him.” </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Priya continued after a little pause. “My son had not done well in his academics and was therefore admonished by his principal. He was quite upset with that and so was I. You would appreciate; I couldn’t have discussed it with you.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Sumit was shocked. He had no clue of that facet of her life. She had never mentioned it to him all those years they were together. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Sumit couldn’t sleep that night. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>What the life would have been if only I had kept my word. </i>He<i> </i> mused over and over. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-87611782725999514462017-01-30T23:54:00.000-08:002017-01-30T23:54:03.740-08:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>APPEAL</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Here is an appeal I want to make to all my followers and other readers of my Blog. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I want my blog to raise some revenue for me. I request my followers/ readers to advise me in this regard. I have some ideas in my mind - workable or not; I don't know). </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">First. Either a follower/ reader remits some nominal fee after reading a story directly to me. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Secondly, one of the followers/ readers can take over the blog from me in a way that I transfer the existing content of the blog to the transferee individual's blog/ site including the future writing from me. Details can be worked out later. This is after I have been unsuccessful in finding a publisher (save self financing type Shylocks for my work). </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Third. If any one of the followers/ readers can connect me to a publisher, I will be ever grateful.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Here, I would like to mention that I have at present a collection of over 50 short stories in WORD format (65000 words approximately) and I intend to continue this vocation. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Looking forward to listening from one/ all of you. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">My email ID: mukundt08@gmail.com </span></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-79911205553038377522017-01-22T05:25:00.000-08:002017-01-22T05:25:07.147-08:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">THE LAMAS OF DHANKAR
GOMPA <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
Krshnamachari was associate professor of Ancient Indian History in the Madras University
at Chinnai. Even though he belonged to a chaste Brahmin family, he was an
ardent Buddha follower and had done lot of research in Buddhism. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
was orphaned in young age and brought up by his
maternal uncle. He was a brilliant
student, which made him eligible for the government scholarship and pursue his
interest in academics. At the age of twenty seven he was appointed as assistant
professor in the Sri Radhakrishnan Government College, Chennai.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
was an introvert, mostly glued to books. His contact with the outside world was
limited to an hour he gave to reading newspapers in the morning. After college,
he gave most of his time studying Buddhist literature and visiting Buddhist
shrines during vacations. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He had studied all the five sects
of Buddhism in general but he believed in the doctrines of </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Theravada sect, which </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">gave an individual, freedom to find his own way to
enlightenment and Nirvana. He was also convinced that Buddha was a normal mortal
who attained enlightenment and should therefore be respected but need not be
worshiped. He supported the sect’s doctrine of non-proliferation of families of
deities.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sudarshan didn’t believe in the
re-incarnation theory and hence his heart remained away from the Mahayana sect even though it was
the largest sect of Buddhism. Perhaps his childhood struggle
inculcated the survival instinct in him that believed in self effort. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But his real
interest lay in Tantric</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Buddhism.
Its mysticism fanned his curiosity towards the sect. He always wanted to have a
closer look at the followers of this sect and if possible undergo some of its
rituals. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tantric Buddhism is a mix of Indian
Buddhism and Tibetan beliefs, which came to recognition in the seventh century.
This form of Buddhism varies from other forms of Buddhism. The Tantric
Buddhists worship by reciting prayers and sacred texts, along with chanting of
hymns. They meditate sitting in circular formation signifying the shape of the universe.
The lamas blow trumpets, play drums and dance wearing masks while performing rituals
to scare away spirits. They extol the supernatural by mystical incantation, which
endows them with magical charms. Tantric Buddhism
exists in the Indian regions bordering with Tibet and Nepal. Sudarshan </span><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">found
out from the web site of Himachal Pradesh Tourism that there was an ancient
monastery dating back to eleventh century in the Spiti Valley. It said the
monastery was on the left bank of a Pin River resting on an overhanging cliff. Sudarshan
was overawed by the pictures and the account of the monastery. He wanted to
find out more about it and decided to visit it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
submitted a pilot project to Madras University seeking financial support for
leading a study group to the monastery. Unfortunately, the Head of History
Department of the university was a known atheist with leftist leaning. He mocked
at the proposal and quashed it out right. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“The
proposal doesn’t mention specific area of research. It will be sheer waste of
time and money. We cannot support such flimsy proposal.” The Head of the
History Department wrote on the file. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
was determined to visit the monastery. He learnt that July and August were the
ideal months when the weather in the valley was moderate. He applied for leave; sold his car, the gas
oven and his refrigerator; the only material assets he possessed and left on
his mission in the last week of July without waiting for the formal sanction of
the leave of absence he had applied. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">A
week later, Sudarshan was in the Indian Institute of Advanced Studies, Shimla discussing
his project with Dr. Awasthi, the Chief Librarian of the Institute. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Dr.
Awasthi was impressed by Sudarshan’s enthusiasm and dedication and allowed him
to access the archives of the Institute for the furtherance of his research.
The records narrowed the area of research to the monastery referred to as
Dhankar Gompa, built in the eleventh century. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Dhankar
Gompa is about two hundred kilometres from Shimla. An inner line permit is required
to go beyond Rampur Bushair, a small town village on the bank of Sutlej River. Sudarshan
discussed the matter with Dr. Awasthi who assured to help him getting the
permission. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
took the morning bus from Shimla to Pooh and reached there by late evening. He
purchased some dry fruits and biscuits from a local shop in Pooh and the next
day took the bus going to Samdoh and further to the ancient town of Tabu. The
road is narrow and hazardous, fraught with the risk of frequent landslides. Luckily, Sudarshan was in Tabu by late evening
without much hassles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
had carried a letter of introduction from Dr. Awasthi for the local school
teacher with a request to help him in his project. The school teacher told him
that a truck of the Public Works Department was likely to go to ‘Dhankar’ village
in couple of days. The contractor who was also staying in the school agreed to
give Sudarshan a lift to the famous monastery.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">It
was beginning of August, the summer month in the Spiti valley. Days were warm
and bright but there were still snow humps on the shadowed patches. The valley
was however getting lively with trees getting new green coat and locals coming
out of their houses along with goats and yaks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Tabu
monastery is on a plateau. By its side is a government school and little away
is a picket of Indo-Tibet Border Police.
Sudarshan had lively discussions
with the head lama of the monastery but noticed that the he was not willing to
discuss the tantric practices known or exercised in the monastery. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Isn’t
it true that a sect of Buddhism practices tantric powers and some of the lamas
were bestowed with supernatural powers?” Sudarshan asked the head lama.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
head lama just smiled without responding. Sudarshan could not elicit any
information from him on the subject. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> Sudarshan stayed two days in Tabu monastery,
talking and discussing various aspects of Buddhism with the monks there. He
spent one evening with the officer in charge of the ITBP post who was a very willing
host.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“For
how long have you been here,” Sudarshan asked him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Almost
three years and hopefully should be out of this sector in couple of months.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Have
you heard of any miracle; anything that may suggest anyone of the monks
possessing supernatural powers?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“We
are under strict orders not to interfere in the matters of the monastery. I do
see some patients coming to the monastery for treatment but what they do or how
they treat them, I have no idea.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
was disappointed by the detachment commander’s non-committal answer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Our
boys go to Sumdoh Army MI room,” the officer added after a little pause.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Next
morning Sudarshan took a lift from the truck going to Dhankar village, which is
at an elevation of 3800 metres in the Spiti valley on the bank of Pin River. It
is a small village with a head count of less than hundred. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
village chief spoke little bit of Hindi. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“A
new monastery has been built on the plains of the Pin River. The scrolls and
other scriptures have been shifted to the new monastery,” the village chief said
and then added, “This has been done for the safety of the devotees since the
path leading to the old monastery is hazardous. Moreover, the old monastery is
in a dilapidated condition.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“I
want to visit the old monastery,” Sudarshan told the village chief. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
village head stared at Sudarshan. “No one is allowed to visit the old monastery,”
the village chief sounded crotchety. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
deemed it proper to let the matter rest at that point and decided to take it up
with the senior lama of the new monastery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Next
day Sudarshan went to the new monastery and spent nearly the whole day there.
His interest and knowledge of Buddhism impressed all and sundry. At the close
of the day he went to the senior lama and requested him to permit him to see
the old monastery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> “It is in a rundown condition. The walls may
give in any time. We don’t take risk.” The senior lama told him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“I
am writing a book on ancient monasteries. It will be incomplete if I don’t
include Dhankar Gompa in my book.” He pleaded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“We
don’t allow non Buddhists to enter the old monastery. Besides, one should be a
member of our order.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“I
am devout Buddhist even though I was born in a Brahmin family. I have presented
more than twenty papers on Buddhism in the international seminars. And if you
insist, I willing to convert; accept Buddhism right now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“What
is your area of interest?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“I
am working on the tantric powers of your sect. I understand Dhankar Gompa was
one of such centres of Tantric Buddhism.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
head lama paused, gave Sudarshan a hard stare and then closed his eyes. Both
sat motionless. The senior lama looked in a trance like state as Sudarshan sat waiting
expectantly for a favourable outcome. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> “Good.
Come here before Sun rise. Make sure you have no camera, no recording gadget
and no pen or paper,” the senior lama said with a feeble smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
nodded quietly and left with a bow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
could not sleep that night. He wanted to structure his audience; frame a set of
questions in his mind for seeking elaboration from the lamas of the ancient
monastery. Next morning Sudarshan reached the new monastery where the senior
lama was waiting for him. “Come let’s go to the river,” he told Sudarshan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
water of the Pin River was cold; colder than the ice water from a fridge. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Take
out all your clothes and have a dip and stay in water until I ask you to come
out,” the senior lama told him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
obeyed. As he entered the water, he felt as if his body was shrinking. He
remembered his childhood days, when he used to dip in the village pond, naked.
But then he was one of the many children and the water was very comforting. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">It
seemed to him as if the clock was moving slow. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“May be, the
senior lama has forgotten that he had ordered someone to remain in the freezing
water. Well! if this is going to be the end of my mission and my life, let it
be. </span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He
thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
was on the verge of collapsing when the senior lama appeared. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Death
is of the body; the soul is imperishable,” The senior lama spoke as he came
near Sudarshan. And then after a little pause, he handed Sudarshan a white cloth
sheet to wrap around and signalled him to follow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">They
walked quietly to the old monastery ascending the cliff hanging over the Pin
River. Sudarshan was overly frightened to walk over the terribly narrow path with
gorges on either side. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Fear
visits when desires supplant the mind. There is no fear if you desire nothing,”
the senior lama spoke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Has he read my
mind?</span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">
Sudarshan was surprised by the lama’s words.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">They
entered the monastery. Sudarshan was gleefully happy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">I am close to accomplishing
my mission. </span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Inside
the monastery was a giant Buddha statue with oil lamps lit all around in glistening
golden pots. On one side were few <i>bhikshus</i>
sitting in a circular pattern on woollen mats meditating and behind them was a Lama
sitting on a podium.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He
was the head lama of the old monastery. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">There
was a mat lying unoccupied. The Head Lama beckoned Sudarshan to sit on it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
was still naked with the white sheet wrapped around him. He was uncomfortable
but his mind was agog, expecting exhibition of some supernatural powers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Supernatural
is something to be experienced within. It’s
not a matter of exhibition. It is within you, don’t seek it out side.”
The Head Lama spoke looking at Sudarshan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Was it
telepathy? How was he able to read my mind?</span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> Sudarshan was
surprised once again.<i> <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Meditate
and seek answers to all your queries from within,” the Head Lama spoke with a
smile this time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
closed his eyes. He feigned meditation. He was a near atheist; never had gone
to any temple in his adulthood. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Suddenly
he sailed into his past. He remembered the banyan tree of his village temple
and felt that he was sitting on one of its branches. Then he felt the banyan
tree was taking him through his life journey. He saw his mother waiting with
his clothes after his bath; his father holding his lunch plate; he saw his friends
in his school ground. And then the banyan tree took him to his college and to
the college where he taught. He saw all his folks and friends receding beyond
the skyline. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
was shaken. He opened his eyes and saw himself sitting on the woollen mat inside
the Dhankar Gompa monastery. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Then
his eyes got closed and felt the mat he was sitting on was getting warmer. Soon
it became unbearably hot. He started sweating profusely; the white sheet of
cloth fell off his body. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Thereafter
he forgot everything; his personal life, his people and his ambition. Nothing
existed but a cool blue light before his eyes; blissful and serene. All his strains
had disappeared; there were no questions, no doubts remained in his mind. There
was a smile on his gleaming face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
felt he was levitating in the air. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
Head Lama came down from the podium and gave him a golden rob to put on. Sudarshan
wanted to stay for some more time in the monastery in front of the large Buddha
statue but the words wouldn’t come to him. .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">“You
can stay here until evening prayers,” the Head Lama told him without his
asking. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sudarshan
was not surprised now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He
bowed before the senior Lama and the Head Lama. He shared lunch with the
inmates and then joined the evening prayer with other <i>bhikshus</i>. After incanting of mantras was over, there was absolute
silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Everyone
in the monastery took his seat and started meditating with eyes closed.
Sudarshan followed. It was a genuine effort on his part this time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">It
was blissfully quiet, pin drop silence in the monastery. Sudarshan had no idea
how long it was. He experienced a glowing light passing in front of his eyes and
when he opened his eyes, he saw himself sitting in front of the Buddha statue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">And
then he realized he was all alone. There was not a single human being in the
monastery. Sudarshan smiled. It reflected his inner happiness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He
came out of the monastery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">It
was pitch dark outside save the twinkling of the stars high in the sky. Walking
alone in the dark over the dangerously precarious path didn’t bother him not
did the Pin River, swishing past the rocks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He
crossed the river devoid of fear and walked to the lodge he was staying in the
Dhankar village.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Next
day Sudarshan was on his return journey. Travelling past the valley, he was reflecting
over his experience at the Dhankar Gompa Monastery and debating within himself.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Was my mission
successful?</span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <i> </i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-66869263709160863942017-01-22T05:24:00.001-08:002017-01-22T05:24:23.907-08:00B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-262864272735534002017-01-17T01:01:00.000-08:002017-01-17T01:01:51.941-08:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<b><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">THE
LAD AT KATOL RAILWAY STATION<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I had a week long
stay in the twin city of Secunderabad and Hyderabad to negotiate and select a
wholesale dealer for our new product, an electronic household appliance for the
region covering the states of Telangana and Andhra. Three bidders had been short
listed by the company; I was asked to inspect their showrooms and assess their fiscal worth and report to the board of directors.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I visited all
the three dealers and found all three of them nearly good. All of them were
fiscally sound and experienced in handling household appliances. It was now for
me to recommend one of them following the benchmarks set by the company. I
completed the exercise recommending the best of the three bidders. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was scheduled
to return to Nagpur, the next morning. Thus I was free in the evening. I therefore
decided to go to Hussain<i> Sagar</i> and take
a ride in a speed boat. I just wanted some thrill.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">After an
exciting time at <i>Hussain Sagar,</i> I
reached back my hotel by seven. I had a shower and as I was about to step out
for dinner, there was a bell boy at the door.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Sir, this packet
has been delivered for you,” he said handing it over to me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was a bit surprised
for I knew no one in the town who would send me a gift. I opened the packet and
found a classy pearl necklace and a silver hip flask. And to add to my surprise;
the hip flask was full of whiskey. I read the card; it was from the bidder who
happened to be the one I had recommended. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was in two minds
whether to accept the gifts or not and then I decided to accept them. My logic
was simple: I neither favoured any one nor did I ask for them; my conscience
was clear.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I made a drink
from the whiskey in the silver flask and relished it. I had another drink and
then proceeded to the dining hall. My spirits were soaring. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">After dinner it
suddenly occurred to me that since my work was finished, I could return to Nagpur
by one of the night trains. I knew couple of express trains touching
Secunderabad late in the evening. I decided to take a chance and rushed to the
railway station and bought a ticket for Nagpur. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It is not very
uncommon to see trains running late in India. It was therefore pleasantly
surprising that the train had arrived on time; big relief in a cold winter
evening. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">As the Delhi
bound super-fast train rolled in, I got into one of the reserved bogies even
though I was aware that only passenger with reservation were entitled to enter it. I
was confident that I will manage a
berth by tipping the conductor.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The conductor was
very unfriendly; he grumbled and asked me to wait. However, on his second round
he asked me to follow him. We came to the farther end of the coach and before
he could open his mouth, I took out a five hundred rupee note and thrust it in
his pocket. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The result was
that I got a berth. I stretched myself on the berth; happy that I could sleep comfortably.
It was ten in the evening; by then most of the passengers had settled; soon I
too fell asleep. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">And then many of
the passengers and I woke up as the train croaked, screeched and stopped with a
jolt. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It was dark outside.
We learnt that the train had stopped at a way side small station. Everyone was
anxious to know the reason. The coach
attendant told us that the engine had developed a problem and was required to
be replaced and that we may have to wait till a replacement engine arrived from
Nagpur, about hundred and fifty kilometres away. That meant we were to wait for
three hours after the engine left Nagpur. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It was anyone’s
guess as to how much time it might take to find a replacement engine and prime
it into active mode.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The station
master came out from his small cabin and apologised but had nothing to offer.
Since none of the premier trains stopped there, there were no kiosks or vending
stalls at the station. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The railway
station we had been stranded was Katol; a very small town in the state of
Maharastra. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Slowly, the
passengers started trickling out. There
were very few lights on the low level platform, which even didn’t have cemented
flooring. Though I am a lethargic person, I also came out reluctantly. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">There were a couple
of iron benches on the platform. As I proceeded towards one of them, I saw a
man sleeping on a mat by its side, covering himself with a coarse blanket.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“What naivety?
Why can’t this bumpkin sleep on the bench?” I was a bit amused. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Well everyone
to himself,” I thought and sat on the bench and opened my lap top. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Might as well
play a game to pass the time. </i>I thought. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">As more passengers
thronged the small platform, there was commotion; the folks cursing the
railways for its inefficiency. The man sleeping on the floor woke up; in fact,
he was a young lad. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Sorry, we have
disturbed you.” I said apologetically. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“What happened?
This train doesn’t stop here,” he said grudgingly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Engine trouble.
Have to wait for the replacement engine,” I was brief.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The young man smiled.
“Get prepared to spend the night here. The replacement driver must be sleeping with
his wife. He has to be extracted from his bedroom ... not very easy.” He chuckled.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was amused at
his sense of humour.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“I say, now that
we are stuck at this forlorn place, is there any scope of getting tea or coffee?’<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“No way sir. You
have to wait for another eight hours. The vendors come only after eight in the
morning since the first train stopping at this station comes at eight thirty in the morning.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was
disappointed but just to keep the conversation alive, I asked him, “What’s your
name?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I am Birj Kishore;
Birju in short.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Well Birju! Do
you live nearby? I mean how far is your village from here?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Not very far, just
one mile.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Tell me, why do
you sleep here?” I was awkwardly inquisitive.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Sir, my father
was a <i>mazdoor - a </i>factory worker in a
sugar mill at Nagpur. The sugar mill was closed dawn because of labour trouble
and the mill owners didn’t pay the wages. My father had taken a loan for building
a small house from a money lender. Since he could not repay the loan, the money
lender arrogated the house. My father
who was suffering from lung infection died of the shock.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Birju waited for
a few moments and then continued. “Sir, would you believe? My father had repaid
the loan amount but the interest itself was whopping 36% per annum.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Birju paused, stretched
his arms and then continued his story with a smile. It was a childlike smile.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“We are left
with our old mud hut. There is my mother, my sister and my newly married
brother. My mother and sister sleep in the cow-shed of the same money lender.
In lieu, my mother works in his farm during day time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was
speechless. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Birju seemed to
be compulsively garrulous. He started again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Sir, you would
agree that I have to be considerate towards my brother. I want him to enjoy the
marital bliss. So I come over to this place and sleep under this platform. Better
than sleeping in the open barn and always be worried of snakes.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was moved by
his story and it surprised me that the lad had no animus towards the money
lender or his fate. He was all smiles talking to me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">He picked up the
threads once again. “I cook meals for the station master. The poor guy is away
from his family and he is a clumsy cook. I therefore cook his meals in the
morning. He allows me to share the left over. The station master is a holy cow; a
thorough gentleman; the poor soul never questions me.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Birju had a
passive listener in me and perhaps he felt I deserved something to drink.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Sir, wait. I
will ask the station master if I can make a cup of tea for you - only for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 22.5pt;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was selfishly
happy for I badly wanted to have a hot cup of tea. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Birju came with
a kettle of tea and a glass tumbler. The tea was too sweet for me but I had no
option. And he brought two <i>paranthas</i> and
some pickles also. I was simply delighted. It was no less than having a dinner in
a five star hotel.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">There was some
activity on the platform. Birju told me that the replacement engine was about
to arrive. Passengers started returning to their compartments. And then I
realized that I had spent five hours in the company of this village lad.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I wanted to give
Birju some money. I took out a hundred rupee note and extended it towards him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Birju smiled. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Sir weren’t you
hungry?” He suddenly asked me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Yes, I was.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“You wanted something
to drink, right?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Of course, I
did.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“The tea and <i>paranthas</i> were from station master’s
kitchen. I just brought them from there. So if you want to pay for your them,
please give it to the station master.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was stunned.
What a clear headed and principled approach this village bumpkin had. He was dismally
poor and yet he was not willing to accept the money. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was stranded
for words. To save face, I asked him, “Tell me, why you were sleeping on the
ground, when there are benches on the platform?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Birju laughed. It
was laughter of a crystal clear soul. I looked at him, waiting for him to
speak.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Sir, the benches
are made for the passengers who buy tickets and travel on trains. How can I
sleep on a bench when I don’t pay for it?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I felt as if I
had been slapped on face. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I felt mean and
low. It dawned to me that my conscience had turned opaque by the festering
blisters of self deceit. I felt as if the expensive necklace I had accepted was
a string of poisonous berries, and the silver flask, a faecal pot. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Birju must have
read the dark shades crossing my face. The village bumpkin wanted to part with
a cheerful note. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Sir, frankly
speaking, I prefer to sleep on ground because the benches are too old; they squeak
and whine a lot,” he said winking at me with a glittering smile. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-72570277033310893542017-01-02T13:35:00.000-08:002017-01-02T13:35:28.171-08:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">THE FORGOTTEN LETTER<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">That forenoon, Abhijit
Verma was alone in his small house in the suburb of Allahabad. His wife had
gone to Sultanpur, a nearby town to attend the marriage of her niece and was
expected only after two days. Normally, Abhijit would have accompanied his wife
but for their pet dog who could not be left unattended. A problem, typical of
the dog lovers. Abhijit wanted to make
most of his freedom. He made a cup of coffee for himself and decided to sort
out old redundant papers; files, office manuals, old reports, books etc., which
were virtually littered all over the place. He has been thinking to undertake this
exercise since his retirement nine months ago. May be it was lethargy or craft
of procrastination that he had not taken up the much desired task.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Now</span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;"> <i>this is the best opportunity; no one to disturb. Let me do it now. </i>He
thought. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Amongst the pile of
books and manuals, he saw a blue coloured paper jacket. He remembered it. He
had been keeping all the letters he received from his father in that blue jacket.
He would read the letters sent by his father once, sometimes twice and then stuff
it in the jacket. He had done this for forty years since he joined his first
job at Nagpur way back in 1960 and until his father’s death thirteen years ago.
Abhijit had not opened the jacket after the death of his father; there being no
occasion to do so. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Abhijit opened the
jacket for he had an urge to have a look at the letters and put them seriatim
in a file. There was a typical format in which his father wrote to him. It
always started with a Sanskrit <i>mantra </i>on
the top and at times a short commentary of the same. There would be a brief description
of the day to day events and then some quotes from scriptures. Never would he
ask anything from Abhijit or give him any advice on his personal matters. And there was an unmistakable identity of his
father’s letters. They were all in the ‘<i>inland
form’</i> where contents were written inside, folded and then the address of
the recipient written on the outer fold. Abhijit had preserved his father’s all
letters for he was emotionally attached to them and he considered their content
of high philosophic value. <i> </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">He was sipping coffee
and working leisurely, enjoying his freedom and was happy that he had
progressed well. Now he wanted to weed out the unwanted books. Unlike spacious racks and shelves in the
government bungalows, he had to manage them in a small house. And then he saw a book, ‘An Autobiography of a
Yogi’. He took hold of it. In a flash, he remembered the person and the
occasion it was presented to him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Abhijit was lost in
memories. He shuffled the pages of the book and then there was a surprise to
follow; there fell a letter from it. It was written on a blue ruled paper, most
probably torn out of an exercise book of a child, folded twice and inserted in
to the book. Its colour had paled. He unfolded it and saw the date on top of
the paper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">It read 17 May1982.
That was the day he had sailed out of the Andaman and Nicobar Islands more than
three decades ago. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">A streak of pain chilled
his spine. He felt giddy and nearly collapsed in the chair. He lay still for
some time and then managed to get up from the chair, walked slowly to the
refrigerator and took a bottle of cold water. As he sipped the water, he swooned
to his days in Andaman Nicobar islands. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">II<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">It was 1979 that he was
posted to the Andaman and Nicobar Islands; an idealistic, young officer full of
energy. Even though he had to work often beyond office hours, he found time for
his hobby of reading and writing and by virtue of his official position he was elected
as the president of the cultural club of Port Blair. Mr. Lalit Ratnakar, the Director of Port
Blair All India Radio Station was the Secretary of this club. Ratnakar was very
energetic for his fifty odd years. He had an inimitable quality of approaching
people and befriending them. And in sync with his profession, he had a flair
for cultural activities. In practice, Ratnakar
was the life and soul of the cultural club with Abhijit as its titular head. Ratnakar
would arrange musical evenings or cultural programmes on the eve of major
festivals and whenever any VIP came from the main land. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Abhijit was sinking
deep in to memory lane. Yes it was February 1982, a few months before he was to
revert back to his parent department. The
festival of <i>Holi</i> was only a month
away. Ratnakar suggested staging a three act play of the famous Hindi writer,
Upendra Nath Ask titled, <i>Taulye:</i> The
Towels. The play is a comedy and a satire on the neo-rich middle class on being
finicky in the use of towels. The wife decrees that every member of the family
will use his own towel and no towel will be used second time. But there is always
a terrible mix up. The family members
forget the rule and often use the used towels - that creates the rumpus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Ratnakar had worked out
all details; finalised the main cast and other supporting actors and had kept
Abhijit informed. He requested Abhijit to come to the club after office even if
it were for few minutes. “Your presence will encourage the boys to perform
better,” he had pleaded. Abhijit had obliged unless he was held up due to any
official or social commitment. All
seemed to be going well. Funds had been arranged through some local businessmen
who were too glad to oblige so long it was brought to Abhijit’s knowledge. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">The play was scheduled
to be staged a week later in the auditorium of the administration. One evening,
Abhijit was about to get out of his office at the close of the day when
Ratnakar rushed in, all ruffled; very unlike of him. He had literally run past
the stairs leading to Abhijit’s office on the first floor. He was panting. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">“What’s the matter Mr. Ratnakar?
You all right?” Abhijit asked him, a little concerned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">“Sir, very serious
problem,” Ratnakar managed to say gasping for breath and then continued after
pausing a little. “Anupam Choudhury, the lead character of our play has to
leave by tomorrow’s flight. He has lost his father.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">That surely was a
serious problem; disturbing in fact. Ads had gone in the local newspaper and
AIR was reminding the people every day, requesting them to come and see the
play. Even ferry timings had been altered to facilitate spectators’ returning
home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Worried by the sudden
impediment, they proceeded to the rehearsal venue. Ratnakar had requested all actors
and support crew to be present in the club. The matter was discussed in length;
majority wanted the play be abandoned. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">“What can we do when
the lead character goes away? How can we replace him in such a short span?”
That was the majority opinion. Abhijit was restrained but Ratnakar was adamant
to stage the play. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">“The show must go on.
The prestige of the club is at stake.” He argued.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">“What about the
credibility of the club? Who will play the lead role? And even if you hunt someone,
how can you make a raw horn to play the lead role? There are not many people in
Port Blair acquainted with theatre nuances let aside performing before a
crowd.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">The discussions carried
on and on. And then Ratnakar got up and
requested the gathering to calm down. I have a suggestion. Everyone looked at
him askance. Ratnakar paused and said, “May I request on behalf of all of you; Mr.
Verma should play the lead role.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">There was a mixed
reaction but everyone nodded. Abhijit was startled; shocked in fact. “How can
that be? I have not even read the script properly and there is hardly any
time.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">“Sir, if anyone can salvage
the situation; it is none other than you. The reputation of the club is at
stake. Sir, you can do it. Please accept the challenge. We are with you. Let
this be your parting gift to the club and the people of Port Blair.” This was
Ratnakar echoing his sentiment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">One person who was a
quiet listener so far was Mrs. Soumya Bhardwaj, the leading lady of the play.
She was looking at Abhijit and at her script off and on. The situation had
rattled her since she was one of the most affected persons. But she wanted the
play to be staged and she wished Abhijit played the lead role. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Soumya was Abhijit’s ardent
admirer. She had attended all the functions wherever Abhijit had presided or
recited his poems. Her husband, Anil Bhardwaj was a Hindi typist in Abhijit’s
department. She had obtained and preserved the copies of all the poems Abhijit
had recited and she had prevailed upon her husband to get her a copy each of
all the manuscripts Abhijit left with Anil.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Abhijit was tall, fair
and handsome young man and he was aware of ladies glancing at him admiringly and
he enjoyed the attention. But that was social admiration and it was true that
he didn’t know many of them individually. For him, Soumya was also just one of them.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Ratnakar handed over a
copy of the script and dialogues of the lead role to Abhijit. The opening scene
had Soumya washing the towels and hanging them on the twine for drying. And
while doing so, she is to censure the family members for being careless in the
use of the towels. Abhijit watched her perform while holding the script. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Next six days were a
melee of events. Abhijit was rehearsing the dialogues to himself even during
office hours. The ordeal was putting him under terrific stress. On the first
day, while Soumya was perfect in remembering her lines and delivering them,
Abhijit was flabbergasted. And time and
again he saw Soumya looking at him intently; it baffled him more. He could feel
the strong vibes emanating from her, and he was finding it difficult to ward them
off. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Following days were
equally turbulent. Whereas Abhijit had got hold of himself as far as the play
was concerned, he could make out that Soumya was inching towards him. Even
though no words were exchanged; her looks were impacting him. During the short
breaks in between the rehearsal, he would see from the corner of his eyes;
Soumya looking at him intently. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">He was getting
unnerved; her looks with a thin smile were driving him crazy. Soumya was
beautiful, curvaceous and her long tress, fondling with her waist line was stirring
him. True enough, Soumya was appealing and charming to make any man lose his
equanimity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">The show was a great
success. Bouquets were presented to Soumya and Abhijit for their performance.
The audience went home complimenting the lead pair. Back in the green room,
Abhijit went to Soumya and thanked her for the success of the show. “You
carried the show. I was very diffident when I was assigned the role but you
saved the day for us.” While saying so
Abhijit had unknowingly taken Soumya’s hands in to his and pressed them softly. Then he looked up and saw Soumya standing
before him, tears rolling down her cheeks.
She didn’t even thank him; there was a lump in her throat. Ratnakar and
Anil came up and congratulated Abhijit and Soumya. Abhijit exited hurriedly and
joined his family. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">The chief commissioner
had invited all the artists and crew members to dinner at his residence. Abhijit
looked around to locate Soumya; he couldn’t see her. Nor was Anil present
there. Ratnakar who could sense Abhijit’s consternation came over and told him
that Soumya felt too tired to stay back for dinner and therefore Anil had taken
her home. “She wanted me to convey her apologies to you,” Ratnakar added. It
was now Abhijit, missing Soumya. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">She should have been here to share the moments
of glory. </span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">He thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Next two months were
hectic. Office work followed by social engagements and then winding up the
household and getting them packed for shipping. It was a mess of events. Those
days there were no professional packers. It was left to amateur jetty labourers
to do the packing. Abhijit often remembered Soumya and her tranquil looks,
which were so expressive. He wished Anil had invited him to his place.
Unfortunately, the poor steno could never think of that. It would have been
sheer audacity on his part besides many tongues would have wagged. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">The day arrived when Abhijit
was leaving the islands. A deluxe cabin had been booked for him, his wife and
his young son in <i>MV Harshvardhan</i>. The
friends and colleagues had come and gone bidding them farewell. Anil was there
helping him to stack the bouquets and gift packets and standing at a corner was
Soumya listening quietly to Abhijit’s wife and the prattle of his young son. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">The ship had hooted twice.
As is the norm, after the third hoot the gangway is removed. Non passengers are
required to clear the deck before that. Abhijit told Anil to leave. He hugged Anil,
but his eyes were stilled on Soumya. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Soumya came forward and
presented him a neatly wrapped packet. “You may like this book,’ she whispered
handing it over to him... She could speak no more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">“Take care and keep in
touch,” Abhijit whispered as they came to the deck. Abhijit stood at the deck as he saw them going
over the gangway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">The final hoot pierced
the atmosphere. Abhijit standing on the deck saw Anil and Soumya standing at
the jetty waving at him. As the propeller churned water, the ship started
getting separated from the jetty. Large ship of <i>MV Harshvardhan </i>size took good half an hour to be tugged away from
the shores. The jetty was near empty by now except that there was a lone couple
still looking at the departing ship and Abhijit looking at their silhouettes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">III<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">One tends to be selfish
with the passage of time as one strives to adapt to new responsibilities, new
people and new environment; official and social. Abhijit
forgot Anil. He forgot Soumya and he forgot Andaman Islands and he also forgot
the book presented to him by Soumya. He did open the cover once; it was the autobiography
of Swami Yoganand. He gave it a look and then stacked it in his book self. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">That was over thirty
years ago. He had risen in the hierarchy; had a share of glory, accolades and criticism
and finally retired and settled in his small house in Allahabad. He had lot of
spare time now. The invites had dwindled over the time and one possible reason
was that he avoided driving at night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">It was that forenoon
when he was free from house hold chores that it occurred to him to sort out his
old papers and he saw the letter forgotten for three decades; and that too it
was by sheer chance. He read the letter once, twice and thrice and he was shaken.
He loathed himself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Oh God! What a wretched person I am. It took me
more than thirty years to see this letter. Where would be she now and in what
condition? What agony she would have suffered? Can I be pardoned ever? <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">The letter read: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Dear Sir ji<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Pardon me writing this letter to you. Even after innumerable sleepless
nights, debating whether I should or I should not; I could not restrain myself
and have mustered courage to write these few lines. I know full well that I
cannot explain the propriety of my action. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">The very first time I saw you, I was drawn towards you. Since then, my
body was captive but my soul was always with you. I am God fearing and religious yet I do not
feel any guilt or shame in admitting it. The more I saw you, more I yearned for
you; not doing so was beyond me. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Now you are going away and I see no hope of seeing you again. But your picture is etched in my heart and it
will remain so until my last breath. Left to suffer in these islands I am like
a tulsi (basil) plant, which is adorned but never given a place inside the
house. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">In last Holi, you played colours with all of us. I can never forget your
applying orange colour on my face. Sir ji! Can I make one request: whenever you
play Holi, please put a tinge of colour on the tulsi plant of your house. I
will feel your presence within me. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Be God with you.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Abhijit took the
letter, folded it and kept it in the blue paper jacket along with his father’s letters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Three months later it was
the <i>Holi </i>festival.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Abhijit’s folks had
gathered at his place. His brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, daughters-in-law,
his grand children and his wife; all had gathered to celebrate the festival of
colours. There were snacks, sweets and there were packets of colours of
different hues. He being the eldest, all family members waited on him to start
the ritual of applying the colours. Abhijit got up quietly, picked up the plate
with orange colour and walked to the <i>tulsi</i>
plant at the other end of the lawn and smeared it around its stem. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Everyone thought he was
getting senile. Abhijit but smiled inanely; he knew he could not explain it to
them. <span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-28268129953330785062016-12-28T05:15:00.001-08:002016-12-28T05:15:33.888-08:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><b><span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></b><!--[endif]--><b>REDISCOVERING NATIA</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Harry Royston was working for World Food Programme.
His beat included Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan. Georgia being central to
other two countries, WFP had based him at Tbilisi. Harry had taken a flat on
Rustaveli Street and engaged a part time help to assist him in household
chores. The woman was introduced to him as Miss Nani by Zurab Machiavelli, his
locally appointed assistant. Harry knew her as Nani and had been calling her by
that name.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He didn’t know her official name, never occurred to
him to ask her even though she had been working for him for nearly a year. Nani
was in her late forties. She was reasonably good looking, tall with an athletic
figure and she was a spinster. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One Saturday evening Harry invited Zurab to his
place. Zurab told him that he will bring some freshly brewed white wine of
Kakheti. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Kakheti white wine is the best in Georgia; fresh
and lively; and no hangovers.” Zurab said wanting to impress his boss.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> They were
having a lovely evening. Nina had prepared nice snacks to go with the wine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Zurab, I must thank you for finding such a nice
help. She is very punctual, meticulous and understands my needs. I am surprised
why she didn’t marry. She is beautiful and an excellent cook,” Harry said
picking a piece of fried fish fillet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">By then, Zurab had been softened by the wine. He
asked Harry, “Do you know Nani was a middle distance runner. Represented
undivided USSR and was an Olympian silver medalist.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Harry was surprised. Zurab continued. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“She didn’t marry because those days, women athletes
were discouraged to marry. They were indoctrinated by the coaches and the DPO -
‘District Pogrom Officer’ to concentrate on their career. The athletes had no
choice because defiance meant severe punishment, sentencing to hard labor.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Zurab continued after refilling his glass. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Nani was a promising star. They hoped she would
bring a gold medal in the 800 metres. She was subjected to intense training
schedule with trainers closely monitoring her performance. No smoking and no partying four years prior
to next Olympics. That was the directive for the budding athletes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“No wonder those days Russians were topping the
medal list. Perhaps Chinese are doing the same now.” Harry said zestfully. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Harry’s comment didn’t go well with Zurab. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Unfortunately, Nina suffered because of the State
policy. She was expelled from the Olympic probables even though she was a
silver medalist in the previous Olympics.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“That is sad, in fact ridiculous. Tell me more about
her,” Harry was eager to know about Nina, who has been working for him quietly,
incognito. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Zurab unfolded Nina’s story. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Her official name is Natia Gigiasvili. She was born
in Rustavi district in a family of factory workers. I was her neighbor. Both
her parents worked in an Iron and Steel Mill in Rustavi. Her father, Alexi
Gigiasvili was a mild natured man. He cared more for his wife and children than
for himself. Yet his wife was always unhappy and dissatisfied and finally left
him after eleven years of marriage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I want to work for the party. They are sending me
to Armenia to work on a State project,” she told Alexi. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The reason given by Alexi’s wife to leave him was
sacrosanct. The Party work came first and foremost. It was over and above the
family. Alexi’s pleading were in vain. A couple of months later he came to know
that his wife had left with one of her distant cousins. Alexi was left with his
young daughter Natia and little son Taimuri to fend for himself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia was tall and slim and showed good promise in
track events. The DPO thus recommended to the Politbureau Sports Member to
enroll her in the list of Olympic probables. Natia was not keen to leave her
father alone. She wanted to take care of the family in the absence of her
mother. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Alexi was an accomplished flute player. He obtained
permission to join the community club and pursue his hobby after day’s work in
the factory. Soon he was a member of a cultural troupe, which staged shows all
over the country. Natia at times accompanied her father. It was during one of
these shows that she met Georgi Peradze, a ballet artist. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Georgi Peradze was a young, handsome ballet dancer
who had earned a niche for himself. He was admired and invited by the cultural
councils of several republics. In spite of his celebrity status, he was soft
spoken, amiable and modest. Natia was awestruck whenever he appeared on the
stage. And she applauded him enthusiastically even after the rest of the
audience had settled in their seats. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Though Natia’s father was a member of the orchestra,
she was diffident to go near Georgi and talk to him. Georgi often noticed her
looking at him incessantly. One evening he came over and asked her, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You seem to like ballet dance.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia was overwhelmed. “Yes, it’s amazing and I like
to see you performing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I am just a learner. There are many artists better
than me. I am still a novice.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You may say so but for me, you are the best,” Natia
replied. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You flatter me.” Georgi said. He was blushing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Georgi was several years senior to Natia. Thirteen
years to be exact. That didn’t stop Natia falling in love with him. She loved
him and loved his skilful dancing. In fact, she was captivated by his
performance and wanted to switch over to ballet dancing. For her, Georgi was
simply irresistible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia’s coach reported that her interest in
athletics was waning and that there was deterioration in her performance. The
DPO investigated and found out the cause of her distraction. He called her and
advised her to give her fullest attention to athletics. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“No deviation, no distraction. I have drawn your
career profile and I will not accept a ‘no’ from you. I am answerable to the
Sports Member of the Politbureau.” And then staring at her he added, “How can I
face him having promised him a gold medal in your event?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia remained quiet. She was madly in love. Staying away from Georgi was unthinkable for
her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The shrewd DPO read her mind. He called Alexi and
Georgi and warned them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Hereafter you will not take her to your club nor
will she accompany you to any of your silly shows. I am not happy the way you
two are distracting a young athlete from her promising career. This is clear
defiance of State policy. If you don’t mend your ways, I will report against
you to the higher authorities.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The two artists had nervous breakdown. They
understood the intent of DPO’s words. A week later a party member came to
Natia’s place and asked her to pack her suitcase. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“A truck will come in thirty minutes to pick her,”
he told Alexi. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Where are you taking her,” the distressed parent
wanted to know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I don’t know. I am told to put her on the truck. I
don’t know anything beyond that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia cried. “Please give me at least one day. Only
one day please,” she begged. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Shut up,” The messenger shouted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia was desperate to see Georgi before leaving.
She knew she may not meet him in near future, may be never for she didn’t know
where she was being taken.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A truck came within thirty minutes. The party member
gave a searching look at Taimuri and Alexi, standing with a suitcase. No one
amongst us came out to bid good bye to Natia. We watched her being taken to the
truck from behind the curtains of our windows. As Natia was about to get into
the waiting truck, she saw Georgi standing on the other side of the road
looking at her intently. She ran towards him and went in to his waiting arms. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Georgi was heartbroken to see Natia being taken
away. He had dared the authority to come and see her off. And when Natia
embraced him and cried, Georgi too could not hold his tears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia was dispatched to Borjomi Sports Center. The
incident was reported to the DPO who made an appropriate entry in the citizens’
dossier. It was a case of open defiance.
Next day, orders were issued cancelling Georgi’s all cultural programmes
and he was asked to report to the farm manager of his commune in Gori. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Take care of the mules. They dance whenever they
feel horny. You can join them.” the farm
manager told him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“The Borjomi Sports Center was a highly protected
premise. More appropriately, it was a fortified garrison. Twelve feet high wall
ran all around the thousand hectare campus with concertina coil on top and
watch tower at every hundred metres. The sentries manning the watch towers
round the clock had orders to shoot at sight anyone moving suspiciously near
the boundary wall. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In a communist regime, everyone was a suspect in the
eyes of the State.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Three years. Natia was in the Sports Center. Alexi
was allowed to see her after one year and thereafter after every six months.
Natia was being groomed to be ace runner of the country. Finally, she ran for
the country. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia ran with all her physical strength and mental
energy for she had been promised that she could stay with Georgi after the
Olympics were over. With that hope in her heart, she ran with all her might but
could win a silver medal only. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There were accolades, appreciation and public
receptions but the DPO and Politbureau Sports Member were not happy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You could do better because you have the potential.
We want you to have a break of four weeks and return to the Sports Center and
start preparing for the next Olympics,” the Sports Member said gruffly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia’s success didn’t bring her any happiness. Nothing
mattered to her now for the thought of going away from Georgi and her family
was quite depressing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Zurab refilled his glass and continued.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia was received by all of us. The DPO was
there. Natia could see fear and
apprehension in every eye. She saw her
brother Taimuri who had been employed in the same factory where his father
Alexi worked. Taimuri and Alexi were standing away from the rest of the crowd
that had gathered to welcome the Olympian. Natia could see the pain in their
eyes. She knew something was amiss. And
she noticed that Georgi was not present there.
She waited until the reception was over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Inside the house, they closed the doors and wept
uncontrollably. Natia didn’t know what made Alexi and Taimuri cry. After a
while, Alexi told her that Georgi cannot perform as a ballet dancer any more.
He has been ordered to work in the commune at Gori. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“The State has banned his programmes. The DPO
accused Georgi of misguiding a young national athlete blaming him for
distracting you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia couldn’t sleep that night. She had labored
hard with the hope of meeting Georgi, to be with him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She decided to go to Gori. Next morning she told
Taimuri, “I will be back by tomorrow evening. Tell father that I have gone to
see our ailing aunt at Tbilisi.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia waited until her brother and father left for
the factory. Thereafter she took a bus to Gori and reached there late in the
afternoon. She enquired from the man in a grocery store about Georgi’s house.
The man looked at her curiously, smiled and indicated the house. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia went and knocked. An old woman came out and
looked at her suspiciously. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I am Natia Gigiasvili from Rustavi. I have come to
see Georgi,” Natia whispered. The old woman recollected. Georgi often talked of
her. She whisked her inside. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Child, why have you taken the risk of coming here?
If any one sees you here, more trouble will come to you and Georgi.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I couldn’t hold back. I am guilty for ruining his
promising career. I feel sad that such a bright career has been nipped in the
bud.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The old parent sighed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Wait I will get you something to eat. You must be
tired after a long journey. Stretch on the bed in the meantime.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A little later, she gave her a piece of <i>kachapuri</i> (a Georgian variety of baked
bread) and a cup of hot soup.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Georgi came home late in the evening. He looked
tired and fatigued. As he entered his house, he couldn’t believe his eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia stood before him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">They ran in to each other’s arms. No words were
spoken. The old mother cried to see them in an embrace. There were two forms
with inseparable souls.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You should not have come here. The DPO here is a
strict and ruthless fellow,” Georgi told her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Georgi, I just couldn’t help. I had to come and see
you at least once. I wanted to say sorry to you,” she whispered resting her
head on his chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The old mother went out to bring some bread and
eggs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “You have a
guest?” The store keeper asked her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“No, no. Georgi is very hungry these days after
day’s hard work.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The store keeper smiled. The old lady knew it was
ominous.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The two didn’t sleep that night. They just couldn’t.
They talked of the happy old days, their miseries and their shattered dreams.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I missed you Georgi and I am sad for you. Your
career has been ruined because of me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Georgi took her in his arms and kissed her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“It’s my luck. Please don’t blame yourself. I admire
your courage to take so much risk and come to see me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Georgi, I
had to see you once even if it were at the cost of my life.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">They were locked in each other’s arms. They were
oblivious to the icy cold wrath of the world outside. They were warm and cozy in their small world.
It was a meeting of two lovers with maddening intensity. Their pent up emotions
erupted like a dormant volcano. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Next morning, they got out of bed before the
daybreak. Natia wanted to take the first bus to Rustavi. Georgi said he will
escort her up to the bus stand. Natia told him not to. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Don’t be foolish. I shouldn’t be seen with you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Natia, if you were courageous enough to travel
hundred kilometers to see me; how can I stay back? I am coming to see you off. Let the worse
happen.” Georgi was determined.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia hugged Georgi’s mother and the two walked to
the bus stand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As Natia was about to board the bus; tears rolled
down her eyes. She couldn’t help crying. Georgi kissed her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Good luck my love,” he whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Georgi stood still, watching the bus go taking away
his beloved away from him. He ambled back to his quarter, full of anxiety and
apprehension. He wished Natia reached home safely. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The State intelligence in former USSR was a
well-knit, efficient machinery. The
storekeeper reported Natia’s visit to the GPO who took no time to open Georgi’s
dossier. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It read. <i>Georgi
Peradze: a suspect. Has been acting against State policy.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The GPO rang up his counterpart in Rustavi and
exchanged notes. Defiance of State by the two lovers was established. Georgi
was sentenced to labor camp for ten years and Natia was asked to report back to
the Sports Center immediately. She was put on tougher schedule but she could
not concentrate. Every time she put on her spikes, she remembered her moments
with Georgi. And she was remorseful that he had been punished because of her
love for him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Her physical sinews were getting stronger but her
mental energy enervated each day. Her coaches were disappointed with her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“She doesn’t put her heart in the training,” the
head coach sent the feedback to the Sports Member. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Her timings worsened. Finally, the coach threw the
towel and recommended her removal from the Sports Center.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Nadia was thrown out. This time her father was not
informed. The truck waiting at the gate of the Center took her to the hill
district of Casbegi where the government was making a tunnel through the snowy
hills. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia was then a mere number. She was called by it
for morning tea, afternoon bread and evening soup. Over a period, she had
forgotten the count of days, months and years. She was a numbered robot working
mechanically. She had forgotten her father and her brother. But she could not
forget Georgi and the last moments with him.
She remembered him, seeing her off at the bus stand. She could not
forget the agony, distress and fury in his eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was most distressing for her to know after couple
of months that Georgi had been sentenced to ten years of labor camp. She
couldn’t know which camp he was deported to.
There was no way of knowing it and any attempt to find out would have
attracted penal action. She had a vague hunch that he was sent to Kazakhstan,
where a huge dam was under construction.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">December 1991. The mighty Soviet Union was
disintegrated. The Republics became sovereign countries. General amnesty was
granted to men and women working in the labor camps subject to review by
tribunals. Nadia was lucky; she didn’t
have any political offence against her name. The persons falling under ‘crime
against the State’ were put on probation for another six months. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia reached Rustavi unannounced. She entered her
street and slumped outside her house. All of us rushed out to see her. Natia once a healthy athlete was an emaciated
human skeleton. You could count the bones in her frail frame from a mile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Zurab continued after a long pause. Harry could see
tears rolling down his cheeks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Alexi had suffered a stroke of paralysis. Taimuri
who was till sometime back working in the Rustavi Steel Mill had been
retrenched since there was no demand and the factory was running in loss. They
were living on doles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There were two things in Natia’s mind. First and
foremost, she wanted to find out about Georgi and secondly, she had to take
care of her family. She started both zealously. She went to Gori and was
greatly relieved to know that Georgi was still alive. The State had informed
his mother that he would be released after his case was reviewed by the
tribunal, which may take six months.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Six months is
too long. </span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia mused over and over. She was
restless, marking each day on the calendar. She started working in a <i>kachapuri</i> outlet. It assured her of two <i>kachapuris</i> at the close of day as wage
substitute.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia rushed to Gori on the day Georgi was expected
to reach home. He was brought home in an ambulance. The lithe dancer who once
twirled on his toes for hours together could not even stand on his feet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The two lovers stood in front of each other. They
could not speak. They stood there, still and frozen. The unstoppable tears
running down their crumpled cheeks spoke volumes of the agony of their
separation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I never cried when they used to kick me for work
not completed. But I cried every night in my bunker remembering you.” Georgi
whispered in her ears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia smiled feebly. She found no words to describe
her days. She was happy that Georgi during his incarceration didn’t know that
she too was sentenced to a labor camp. She knew it would have killed him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia brought Georgi to Rustavi. The two lovers are
now living together. Natia takes care of him as if he were a distressed
child. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">II<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Zurab was in tears as he came to the close the
story. Harry was virtually moved. They looked at each other; still and silent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After a long pause Zurab continued. “It was during that period that you came to
Tbilisi and I put her with you as a part time help.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“But you never told me anything of her past, not
even her real name,” Harry asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Natia doesn’t want to remember her past. She wants
to forget her name and has taken the new name, ‘Nani’. She has asked all her
friends and folks to call her by that name. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Next day when Nani came to work at Harry’s place, he
told her, “Zurab has told me your story. I salute you for your grit and
determination and for your unfailing love for Georgi.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia stood quiet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Harry continued. “I don’t want you do the petty work
anymore. You are a gem not to be wasted on menial work.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Harry talked to the American Ambassador and got her
appointed as a ‘Track Coach’ in the American International School. Harry was
happy that he could do something for Natia. Next day, he told her of her new
assignment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I am sure, now you don’t mind being called Miss Natia
Gigiasvili, the Olympian Silver Medalist.” Harry said taking her hands. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Natia smiled as tears streamed from her eyes. She had smiled after ages. Words were not
coming to her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Thank you Mr. Royston for rediscovering the dead
Natia,” she managed to say shaking hands with him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-86723216541219220172015-02-21T06:42:00.001-08:002015-02-21T06:42:25.826-08:00THE DISTANT DREAMS<div>
</div>
<br />
<em><strong>Author’s Note:</strong> It is now 60 years that India got its political independence. Surely, there has been economic development in the country. The per capita income has gone up, child mortality has decreased and literacy percentage has increased and so on. These are but statistics bolstered by government slogans like Garibi Hatao (Poverty Alleviation), India Shining, Bharat Nirman and many more. The reality is that life has not changed much for the rural poor. Distribution of wealth in the country has been acutely uneven. Stark poverty still exists amongst millions who have neither shelter over their heads nor are they fortunate enough to have daily meal and it is a deprecating irony that in this very country there are privileged few spending millions on personal amusement and recreation.</em> <br />
<br />
<br />
In the sands of Great Indian Desert in the Jaisalmer district of Rajasthan, there is a small village called Gotaru. The dusty outskirts of the village now form the international boundary. The population is a mix of Bhils, Gujjars and Meenas, the backward castes among Hindus and Muslims. They are however identified by their professions such as cobblers, carpenters, masons, blacksmiths and other such trades. Lure of money has now added occupations like pimping, stealing, bootlegging and smuggling to the list. However, the most unfortunate development in the past half century has been the division of the people on religious basis, which the old men and women say didn’t exist in the pre-independence days. The divide is the gift of politicians, the modern destiny makers of the poor people. <br />
In fact, in good old days, religion for the people of Gotaru meant following a few common rituals on the occasions of birth, marriage and death. Id, Holi and Diwali were celebrated collectively by Hindus as well as Muslims. Firewood being difficult to get, even the Hindus buried their dead. Survival in fact was the essence of life.<br />
<br />
There is an earthen mound on the east-end of Gotaru. The mound has a cave facing east. Perhaps it was a temple since the half-buried and withered pillars have yakshas and Kinners carved on them. No one knows when the structure was constructed and by whom? The people call it mati-tillah. In the past, the cattle and children of the village soiled the place, and there never was any feud over its ownership. Instigated by politicians and religious leaders, today it has become a bone of contention between the two communities.<br />
<br />
Hakim Sah is an old man of the village. He is one of the five panchs of the village panchayat. He doesn’t know his age.<br />
“I may be seventy, may be eighty, may be less, I really don’t know and really come to think of it, how does it matter?” He says feebly.<br />
Hakim Sah was a tall man with broad shoulders, which were now drooping because of age. In his young days, he had a camel and was engaged in ferrying goods. His entire life is a saga of oppression, exploitation, persecution, hunger, pettiness and crime. He has killed strangers for few silver coins and he has acted as a pimp without any compunction. But today, he is infirm and helpless, unsure of his next meal.<br />
Pherumal is a contemporary of Hakim Sah. Both of them have spent their years in and around Gotaru. Pherumal was a blacksmith by profession. They were close friends who had shared happiness, pain, sorrow, liquor, stolen booty and prostitutes.<br />
Pherumal is no better than Hakim Sah in terms of health and worldly possession. He lives under a perforated tarpaulin stretched between two mud walls, secured to a Neem tree on one side and a keekar bush on the other.<br />
<br />
1942 was the year when Congress Party workers wearing white khadi had come to Gotaru. It was the year when Quit-India Movement had stormed the entire country. The party workers were carrying the tri-colour flags. There were Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs in that group. All of them were shouting Inquilab. The people of Gotaru don't remember the details. They only remember that the group talked of freedom from the British rule and that they promised better life for every Indian after the white men were driven out of the country.<br />
Hakim Sah squints when you ask him the difference in his life after the white men had left. His face gets distorted with the wrinkles. He is circumspect, perhaps flabbergasted by the relevancy of the question.<br />
“What change? A Raja is a Raja and the Praja is Praja always. The former is born to rule and the later, to be ruled. What difference does it make whether the Raja had a white skin or brown skin? We will always remain the Praja, the servile,” he laments.<br />
<br />
The year 1947 changed the course of the history of the Indian sub-continent. It was a difficult year for the people of Gotaru. They were told that half a mile away, from the other side of the village nullah, a new nation of Pakistan had been created. The people of Gotaru could never conceive the prudence of the decision. In fact, the Tangia, a village on the other side of the nullah with identical population composition was now part of Pakistan. Apart from poverty and hunger, which were common on either side, the people of Tangia and Gotaru were related to each other by marriage. Besides, the masons from Tangia and the carpenters and painters of Gotaru worked in both the villages and even beyond. The division of the country had curtailed their movement, making life more difficult.<br />
<br />
Hakim Sah was once caught and severely beaten by the border police. He thereafter discontinued going to the other side of the nullah. Over the years, his body strength drained out and he could not bear the treachery of the sandy tracks.<br />
Hakim Sah had two children, a son and a daughter. His daughter, Sabina was married to Sahnawaj, a camel rider from Tangia village. Sahnawaj unfortunately died in a clash with his own people over a land scuffle leaving behind a daughter, Sakina of two years.<br />
Life became difficult for Sabina and her daughter. Sabina was in her early thirties and when an elderly cousin of her husband proposed to her, she married him even though her new husband had six children and two wives. Sabina was not welcomed in the new family. The senior wives of her husband often insulted her and her daughter Sakina was always last to get meals. About a year later, her husband's amorous interest in her waned and he considered Sabina to be an unnecessary additional mouth to feed. One day he took unsuspecting Sabina to Karachi and sold her off to a brothel keeper.<br />
When Hakim Sah came to know of it, he went to Tangia and brought his grand daughter, Sakina to Gotaru.<br />
<br />
Hakim Sah's son, Aftab didn't like his father. The dislike was mutual. Aftab disliked the look of a camel and refused to accompany Hakim Sah on his business errands. Aftab became a rebel and finally turned in to a petty thief and a bootlegger. He was caught, beaten up by the border police several times but the habit didn't die. Whenever he got some money, he spent it on liquor and prostitutes. Today, Aftab is mentally and physically diseased. Children tease him and you can see him loitering and begging in Gotaru and adjoining villages.<br />
<br />
Pherumal too had a daughter and a son. The son joined his father when he was eleven. Working on a furnace in the blazing desert is understandably a very tiring job. Pherumal after day's work would find relief in a bottle of country liquor, which he often shared with Hakim Sah. Pherumal’s son soon adopted his father's passion for drinking and smoking and in the prime of youth he became a victim of tuberculoses. He often suffered chest pain followed by vigorous bouts of coughing. On such occasions, Pherumal would give him liquor to bear the pain. The battle didn't last long. One day when pain was acute and he was heavily intoxicated, the young lad vomited his lungs out. Life deserted him with black fluid oozing from his mouth. Pherumal's son died at the young age without any descendent.<br />
As time passed and Pherumal got over the grief of losing his son, he became sad for not having a male descendant. Pherumal wanted to have one, at any cost. One night he entered the hut of his son's widow. The young widow resisted but failed and capitulated to Pherumal's irresistible desire to have a male descendent. <br />
Pherumal was happy over his triumph. His wife as well as his daughter-in-law had succumbed to his desire. Everything was working to his liking, unaware that the widow but had her own plans. One day, the young widow left the village for some unknown destination. Pherumal was disappointed, not for losing his daughter-in-law but for losing all hopes of having a male descendant.<br />
<br />
Pherumal's daughter, Kajari was married to a young man from the adjoining village, Tanot, which was a tehsil of Jaisalmer district. Kajari’s husband was in the service of Thakur Kripal Singh, the landlord of Tanot village. The Thakur owned five hundred acres of land tilled by bonded labourers. Apart from money, Thakur Kripal Singh also liked wine and women. He had more than a dozen Goli-maids in his harem to satisfy his carnal desires. Kajari was initially employed as farm labour. One day Thakur Kripal Singh saw her and he was stuck by her bewitching beauty and figure. He immediately ordered that Kajari be added to his harem as his new Goli.<br />
It is the duty of a Goli to serve the master and to satiate his sexual desires. A Goli's husband has no right over her body and it was sacrilegious for the husband to touch or desire his wife. The Goli and her husband were however duty-bound to accept the children sired out of the companionship with the master but children from a Goli had no right over the property of their biological father.<br />
Over a period, Kajari was pregnant and was removed from Thakur's service. To her ill luck, one evening she was seen in the company of her husband who could not resist the charm of his wife. The inevitable followed. Kajari was paraded nude in the haveli and beaten till she fainted. Thakur Kripal Singh then ordered to throw her outside his haveli.<br />
No one ever saw Kajari's husband. The story goes that he was hacked to death by Thakur's men and pieces of his body thrown in to a dry well.<br />
Pregnant Kajari came to her parents who refused to accept her. Living behind her parents' hut, one night she gave birth to a son. Two weeks later, Kajari kept the newly born son below the cot of her father and left Gotaru in search of a new life. Nothing was heard of her thereafter.<br />
Pherumal reconciled with his fate and accepted his grandson from Kajari. He named the young child, Panna.<br />
<br />
Pherumal and Hakim Sah had grown old and infirm, unable to continue their profession. Pherumal’s family inherited a little knowledge of herbs. Unable to work at the furnace, he now practised as village quack. The two friends would sit together in the evening and talk of the bygone days and their miseries. Hakim Sah would bring his hookah. They would make a small fire out of dung cakes and smoke hookah, coughing phlegm now and then. In the winter months they would sit on the mati-tillah whole day, smoking and lazing around in the sun.<br />
<br />
II<br />
<br />
Young Panna, the grand son of Pherumal, was extraordinarily sharp. He didn't want to be a blacksmith. When eleven, he ran away to Jaipur and got the job of a dishwasher in a road-side restaurant. A couple of years later, he was employed by a retired army officer who had turned to politics. There, Panna had the opportunity of observing sly, deceitful, lascivious and hippocratic lives of the political leaders. He was amused watching politicians changing colours faster than the legendary chameleons. It was a training ground for Panna and he learnt the art with amazing alacrity.<br />
Panna often went to his village and gave some money and small gifts out of his savings to his grandparents. Pherumal was very proud of his grandchild.<br />
<br />
Panna was distressed to see the pathetic living conditions of his people in Gotaru and around. He felt that the upper caste landlords were ruling the country, exploiting the vote bank of the poor and down trodden. Pherumal and Hakim Sah were worried by Panna’s views, which he propagated openly. They always advised him to lie low. “We are Praja, destined to be ruled; they are Rajas.”<br />
“That is a deep rooted fear instilled in you by the upper castes. They are the people who have made the rituals establishing their superiority. No other society anywhere in the world has such discrimination. It is time that we revolted against social persecution,” Panna often told the young boys and girls of his community.<br />
<br />
Panna knew that democracy was the virtue of multitude. He wanted to harness this power, which he knew rested in his people. But the response from his people was far from encouraging. Centuries of servility and impoverishes, ridden with domineering rituals to respect the upper caste had left them timid and meek.<br />
Panna wanted his people to realise that power belonged to them if they mustered courage. He was undeterred by their diffidence. He cultivated young men and women from his community and developed a network of volunteers to take up people’s problems with the district authorities. In couple of years, Panna became a known entity in political circles and consequently an eyesore to the upper caste political leaders. <br />
<br />
The elections for the State Assembly had been announced. Panna was busy running from one village to another with his young friends. He had gained a lot of ground, which prompted almost every candidate in the fray to take him on his side. Panna declined all such requests and sent across messages to his people wait for his word until the eve of the election.<br />
One evening Thakur Kripal Singh who was the District Chief of a political party called him to his haveli. Panna anticipated such invitation.<br />
. "Look, you are a Hindu. In fact, your mother was in my employment. I suppose you understand…. I mean ….. ,” Thakur Kripal Singh was feeling uneasy to explain the relationship. With a little pause, he continued, “Why don’t you join us and work for me? If you garner all Hindu votes, I will surely win and for that you will be amply rewarded,” Thakur Kripal Singh was forthright.<br />
"Thakur Saheb, you have been winning the Tanot seat for last thirty years. Please tell me what have you done so far? People go twenty kilometres to fetch water. There is no hospital here and in the absence of roads, the patients die before they can be taken to district hospital. The school is without teachers and its building is in a dilapidated condition.”<br />
Thakur Kripal Singh was not prepared for such outburst but he didn’t want to precipitate the situation.<br />
“Look, I promise to bring all these facilities to the villagers. I do realize that I should have been more attentive to these problems of the people but I assure that hereafter these public demands will be my priority.”<br />
“Thakur Saheb, I see no specific reasons in your change of heart. The fact is you have been exploiting their ignorance, miseries and poverty. And now you are playing communal card. I want to tell them that if they remain united, the power belongs to them. I want them not to be swayed by your communal propaganda. I want to tell them that irrespective of our religion, all of us belong to the oppressed caste.” <br />
The Thakur was infuriated. It was an outright insolence. It was an insult from the man whose mother was once his Goli.<br />
He left the meeting in a huff.<br />
"I don't want to talk to that bastard. Keep a watch over him and find out his weaknesses. Do something to keep the son of a bitch silenced," he told his cronies.<br />
<br />
Panna continued with his campaign relentlessly. Slowly he was getting the attention of his people. The number of people coming to hear him was increasing. Thakur Kripal Singh was getting the alarming reports from his party workers. He decided to remove the thorn once for all.<br />
One evening Panna and couple of his friends went to Tanot to attend a marriage. The host treated Panna and his friends reverentially and served them liquor in a separate room on a lavish scale. The drinking spree came to an end with Panna and his friends vomiting blood. A couple of hours later they died writhing in pain. The police declared it a case of death caused by consuming spurious liquor and closed the case.<br />
<br />
For Pherumal it was a stunning blow. He could never recover from it. Hakim Sah was sad for he loved Panna but he couldn’t muster courage to go to Pherumal to offer his condolences.<br />
<br />
Thakur Kripal Singh once again won the Tanot seat. Years have passed by without anything changing for the people of Gotaru.<br />
<br />
III<br />
<br />
It was the month of June. Sun was at its nadir. The wells had dried. People had to go long distance to fetch water, which was highly contaminated. There was an outbreak of cholera in the region. Death stalked every home. Children were dying every other day and those alive, were worst than the dead, their famished bodies looked awful.<br />
Thakur Kripal Singh, the MLA had no time to come to Gotaru. He was in fact busy mustering support to stake his claim to become a minister. <br />
In Gotaru, people's strength and courage was failing. There was no succour coming from any quarter. The government dispensary was twenty miles away. The village road made by the government agencies had vanished under the sand dunes.<br />
<br />
The villagers all went to Pherumal for he was their last hope for some treatment of the dying. Pherumal had no children left in his family after Panna had died under mysterious conditions.<br />
"Why have you come to me? What is left of my family that I should treat your children?" He shouted in anguish but his heart told him to save the children.<br />
<br />
Pherumal had seen children dying in last few days. After every death the village was getting re-united. Everyone went to the bereaved family irrespective of its caste and creed. Pherumal with his shaking hands was administering the herbs to the children, writhing in pain and dying.<br />
Pherumal remembered Panna’s words, “Our strength lies in our unity. Remember, no one will come from outside to help us.” <br />
<br />
After six decades of independence, Gotaru is still a cluster of dilapidated huts. Withering mud walls supporting tattered tarpaulins mark the landscape. Children with running noses and perennial layers of dust on their body play with chickens, goats and dogs. The school, six miles away from the village is mostly inaccessible due to scalding sand or marshy patches during rainy season. The doctors seldom remain the in the dispensary, which is twenty kilometres away from Gotaru. Men in the pursuit of livelihood cross the border and are often caught, beaten and at times maimed or even killed.<br />
<br />
The life of the people of Gotaru still remains a tale of unmitigated miseries, poverty, neglect and oppression in modern India.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-37814509546359574842015-02-21T06:25:00.002-08:002015-02-21T06:25:52.635-08:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A SOLDIER’S FATE</span></b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">They were from same street and from same school. That was years
ago. In their young days, they had shared dreams; common dreams for their
future. They wanted to settle down in the hill town of Gori, which was their
ancestral town; a quiet sleepy town, where you could live reasonably urbanized
life and afford a kitchen garden and a small orchard too. They wanted to have a peaceful life, surrounded
by their children and a few pets playing around. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After school, Tamuri had joined an accounts firm as intern
and his childhood friend Miranda was a helper in a departmental store. They wanted
to save enough money before getting married and moving to Gori, the land of
their dreams. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Life but took an ugly turn shattering their dreams. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Tamuri was now posted on the North Western frontier of the
country pitted against the Russian troops positioned there in support of
disputed territory of Abkhazia. Not that his battalion could have stopped the
Russians advance but it soothed the battered ego of Georgian government to have
resisted the colossal Russians even if it were symbolic. It was late in the
evening and he was sharing the cold dinner with his mates in the forward trenches.
It had snowed the previous night; the chill in the air was biting and they had
to save kerosene of the rickety stove for the long dreary night. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Looking beyond the sky line, quietly chewing a piece of dry
chicken, Tamuri was lost in the reverie of past memories. A year had passed since he had left his home,
his mother and Miranda, who was once his beloved. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She must be sharing a
cozy cottage with Zurab, unmindful of my woes.</span></i><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> He thought.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Zurab was Tamuri’s cousin who had all the makings of
a worldly wise, successful person. His father, a Deputy Minister in the public
works department helped him in getting contracts for the government works. Zurab,
a shrewd young man quickly learnt the knack of keeping the government officials
happy. Inevitably, prosperity gravitated
towards Zurab and then other traits followed. Zurab became ostentatious,
garrulous and fond of women, wine and wealth in that order or it could be
interchanged. He would take them out for
dinner and shower lavish gifts on them. And that made Zurab popular among girls of Mtskheta Street, the place where he, Tamuri and Miranda had spent their
childhood. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Zurab had an eye on Miranda as well as she was fair, beautiful,
charming and affable. She was but in
love with Tamuri who at times was riled when Zurab tried to come too close to
her. He once expressed his fears to Miranda.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I don’t like that philanderer coming close to you, trying to
win you over.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Tamuri! I love you more than anything in the world. You
don’t have to bother,” Miranda had assured him time and again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Tamuri had lost his father in the earlier Abkhazian aggression
of early nineties. He was the only hope of his widowed mother. Tamuri wanted to
be a sculptor. “One day you will see my creation on the main entry to Tbilisi
from Gori,” he used to tell his mother and he had confided in Miranda. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Why Gori side?” Miranda had asked him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Because Gori is our ancestral town. It will be a gift from a
sculptor from Gori to the capital of the country.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Tamuri had a flair for sculpting. He loved it and spent all
his week-ends in the company of Shalva Gogiashvili, a famous sculptor who saw great
deal of promise in the young lad. But the situation changed too rapidly after Tamuri’s
father was killed in the war. He had to
earn his bread and look after his mother. His ambition to be a famous sculptor
was relegated; he had to join an accounting firm to earn his livelihood. Tamuri was sad to abandon his love for
sculpting but Miranda’s company gave him strength and kept him going. Whenever
he found time, he would visit his mentor and watch him work on the sculptures. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The year was 2008. Trouble started again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The Russians crossed the Georgian border with Abkhazia, threatening
the town of Zugdidi. The Georgian government panicked. Her army was too small
before the overpowering Russian presence. Besides, the Georgian boys were not
enamored by a career in the armed forces. The forces were acutely short of
young soldiers and officers. So the Georgian government issued orders enforcing
conscription. All young boys and men were to serve the army for five years. There
was no appeal against these orders. Tamuri’s plea that his father had already sacrificed
his life for the country and that there was no one to look after his infirm
mother was not heeded by the authorities. The letter of reference from the national
sculptor was also of no avail. Tamuri was given thirty six hours to report to
the 3<sup>rd</sup> Regiment of the Georgian Lancers deployed in the North
Western border. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Events took place so fast that he could not even arrange groceries
for his ailing mother. He was heartbroken to leave his mother in that condition
and to be separated from his beloved. That evening he brought <i>‘kachapuri’</i> from the nearby vendor and
shared it with his mother. The old woman had no words to say. She could not
even bite the <i>kachapuri.</i> There was a
lump in her throat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Son take care of you. Don’t worry for me. I am a dying lamp.
A blow of wind will put me off. You have a long life ahead of you.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Tamuri left for Miranda’s place. Zurab was there. Tamuri knew Zurab too had
received the mobilization orders but he saw him in animated spirit enjoying <i>peeba, </i>the Russian word for beer. Miranda
looked subdued. He wanted to be alone with her. The possibility seemed to be
remote. Miranda’s father offered him a seat on the table and asked him to join. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Let’s share Zurab’s happiness,” he said smilingly. Miranda came up to Tamuri
and offered him a can of <i>peeba</i>, which
he took reluctantly. A little later Miranda’s mother appeared with a tray of snacks.
Tamuri noticed; the old lady too had a thin smile on her face. He was
perplexed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Miranda solved the riddle. “You know Tamuri! Zurab’s father
has been able to get his mobilization orders rescinded. Wish someone had helped you also.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Tamuri never liked Zurab. In fact, it was a mutual dislike. Zurab
was a loud mouth and always bragged of his father’s position in the government
and of his wealth and he was never shy of throwing his weight around and
impressing the girls.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I have come to say good bye to you…. I mean to all of you,” he managed to say
looking at Miranda.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I am sorry for you,” Miranda whispered. Tamuri noticed Zurab
was smiling. He ignored it. He was desperate to talk to Miranda, to hold her in
his arms, kiss her and hug her. He looked at her with all the pain in his eyes.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Take care of
yourself. The place and the enemy are very hostile. Please don’t bother for
your mother. I will look after her. God bless you,” she said and then went in to
bring another tray of snacks and cans of beer. Tamuri looked at Miranda
pensively and then left the place bidding good bye to all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He was now posted at the war front. The soldiers had access
to phone once in a week. He had tried to get in touch with Miranda but she
would not come on line. He was dejected and crestfallen. Thoughts of all kind perturbed
his mind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Why is she not talking
to me? Had she left him for Zurab? </span></i><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> He would talk to his
mother and return to his post. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A year had passed since he was separated from his people. It
was that fateful afternoon that he had received a letter from Miranda. It read
that she was getting married to Zurab on the coming Sunday and that his mother
was serious and had been evacuated to hospital. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He finished his dinner and checked his light machine gun, LMG
and the munitions. That evening the enemy aggression was on the rise. They were
firing rockets and mortars. The enemy had superior weapons and better fortified
trenches. Casualties on Georgian side were always heavy. Tamuri was guarding
one of the positions. Tamuri knew there was no possibility that he would be given
liberty to attend his cousin’s marriage or for that matter see his ailing mother.
Grief overtook him; it pained him that he could not do anything for his dying mother.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As the night advanced, enemy fire intensified. Suddenly his
buddy was hit by a splinter cutting across his face, blood spluttering all
over. Tamuri saw him faltering and
falling in the trench. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Tamuri was now defending the post singlehandedly. The thoughts of his ailing mother and of his
beloved, going away from him vanished from his mind. He was now a soldier
defending his motherland; a possessed soul uncaring for his own life and safety.
There was no stopping of him. He was returning the enemy fire furiously,
changing the magazines of his LMG one after the other.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The Russians had not anticipated such fierce resistance. They
stopped firing but there was no stopping of Tamuri even after his platoon
commander asked him to stop. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Let there be an end to this agony for all time to come,” he shouted
at his officer without interrupting the barrage of fire from his LMG. The
Russians were vexed and annoyed. They lobbed a couple of incendiary grenades at
his bunker. There was an explosion and then there was a ball of fire followed
by thick black smoke all over. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Firing from either side subsided. It was time to look for the
dead and wounded. His friends in arm rushed towards Tamuri’s trench. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Tamuri lay at the bottom of his trench, his one hand still on
the handle of the LMG and Miranda’s letter in the other.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-77058939809779804762011-04-17T03:14:00.001-07:002011-04-17T03:16:00.660-07:00THE BALLOONWALLAH<span xmlns=""> <br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">Just in front of my house is a small park. Small but beautiful and I often thank our 'Residents Welfare Society' for its excellent upkeep round the year. Frankly, I have very limited knowledge of flowers and ornamental plants. What I admire are the flowers of different hues during the winter through spring and I love the shades of various manicured plants during summer. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">I have been living in my house for nearly ten years now. In fact, I shifted in the newly constructed house four years before my superannuation- retirement in common parlance. I vacated a spacious government accommodation quite close to my office which my friends and well wishers thought was being foolhardy. In short, they were not happy. Often retired government servants retain government accommodation several months even after superannuation; many seek post retirement employment just for the sake of retaining government accommodation. I but always felt otherwise. I wanted to be rid of the yoke, we the fraternity of government servants bear for three decades or even more. Let me share with my readers, I immensely enjoyed the thrill of shifting to my newly constructed house. To tell you the truth, it is no less exciting than the company of the newly wedded bride. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">Well, let me not go astray. These days I go for a morning walk to the park and in the evening I often sit on a bench and enjoy reading a magazine, sometimes sipping tea and watching the children playing, running and shouting mirthfully. I see parents and grandparents walking leisurely and many of them sitting on benches and gossiping. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">The park has a couple of swings, very popular amongst the children. There is a merry go round, a sliding plane, a monkey ladder, a parallel bar for little grown ups, couple of see-saws and many other play things. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">In this playful melee are my three grand children also; two girls and a boy, eldest of them being less than ten. My grand son, the youngest among my grandchildren likes the see-saw, clasping the handle very firmly. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">On the farther end of the park just near one of the entry points there nearly every day comes a balloonwallah. He comes on a bi-cycle. There is bamboo stick with cross bar at one end, which is tied to the frame of his bicycle. On the cross bar are coloured balloons of different sizes and other toys. He has a flute like instrument, which he plays to attract the children. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">Generally, I notice the balloonwallah from a distance unless my grandchildren drag me to him to buy them toys or balloons. The balloonwallah is generally surrounded by children and is busy talking to them, making funny noises from the toys. He talks to the children very courteously and at times speaks to some of them in English. To me, he looked a gentleman undergoing the duress of fortune. I felt sympathetic about him. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">At times, I noticed him giving away balloons or toys to the eager children asking them to bring the money next day. I wondered if he got back his money in full and that surprised me. I also noticed that he sold the balloons and toys at very reasonable rates, even at lesser rates than in the market. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">The Dusshera festival was round the corner. The atmosphere was charged with gaiety. There being school vacation, children were delirious since they had all the time to play. The weather being pleasantly mild, the children were seen in the park even during day hours playing heroes from the epic <em>Ramayana</em> and some rehearsing plays they were to enact in the <em>Kalibari</em> temple of the sector. The balloonwallah was by and large relegated from their memory. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">One of those evenings I walked towards the balloonwallah. He was sitting on a plastic stool that he carried as part of the contraption. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">"Poor sale these days," I mumbled. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">"Yeah!" </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">"Hard times for you, I mean how do you pull along- your family expenses." </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">"God's grace," he replied with a thin smile. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">"What is your family? I mean how many children do you have? How do you manage?" I was genuinely distressed. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">The balloonwallah sighed and then looked towards the sky. I could see his quivering lips and tears welling in his eyes. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">"Sir, I don't sell balloons for my livelihood. I am a retired government servant. I have a small house to live and my son is an officer in the army." </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">I was stunned. The balloonwallah continued. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">"I have a ten year old grandson who is afflicted by polio. Bed-ridden, he gazes at the toys we bring for him or his father brings whenever he comes on leave from the border posting." </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">The balloonwallah paused. I couldn't find any words to speak. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">"Sir, I pretend playing with my grandson and watch him trying desperately to stretch his hands towards the floating balloons. Time and again he fails and on those moments my heart cries to see the feeble smile on his face." </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">The balloonwallah took out a handkerchief and wiped his tears. I simply gawked. </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;">"Sir, I come to this park to seek a few moments of relief. When the children here play with the balloons and toys I sell them, I see in them the happiness that could have been of my grandson too." </span></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:12;"></span></p></span>B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-73932558393941833662010-11-09T07:26:00.000-08:002010-11-09T07:28:46.031-08:00POCKET MONEYAuthor’s Note: I have a seven years old grand daughter. Recently she had an argument with her mother over her pocket money. I was privy to their conversation and hence this story.<br /><br /><br /><br /> Sylvia was waiting for her father since afternoon. Her father had promised Sylvia and her mother a week end vacation. Sylvia’s holidays had started about a week ago but her father had still not finalized any holiday plan. Sylvia was getting impatient with nothing much to do at home. Many of her friends had already gone on vacation and Sylvia knew all of them would boast of fabulous time when they returned.<br /><br /> It was Friday afternoon and the holiday plan was still not in place. Her father talked of several hill stations mostly where official guest house existed and in fact where official transport could preferably be provided by some sister unit. Sylvia appreciated that that was necessary to cut down the costs but what worried her was that most of the time her father’s leave plans amounted to knots. In fact, the experience was that nothing was certain until they had boarded the train. It was for this reason that she would keep them secret from her friends. It had often happened in the past that her father had come up with some excuse or the other to defer the holidays at the last moment, generally attributing the postponement or cancellation in final terms to pressing demands of his office. <br />The long wait that Friday ended in what Sylvia and even her mother had apprehended. Her father had sent a message through his secretary late in the afternoon that he had to go to Kolkata next morning to resolve a sudden labour problem of serious nature in Khyderpur docks.<br /><br />Sylvia was Nineteen, a first year student in the Arts faculty of St. Mary’s College, Delhi. She was proud that her father was a senior officer in the government. In fact, she never missed any opportunity of talking about her father’s arduous and important job of national importance. She had become adept in making policy statements on behalf of the government nonchalantly with load of confidence. Her rich friends didn’t like it and they would soon change the topic to safaris, picnics or dinner parties and discothèques. That was where Sylvia felt left out. She would back track with a wry smile but it hurt her inside.<br /><br />“Mom, you better stop my pocket money, it is an insult. With it you can’t even buy a cup of coffee,” she told her mother one day.<br />“Your father has a fixed salary; we have a budget to live within.”<br />“Mom! Do you ever realize that the money I get is a pittance when compared to what my friends get?”<br />“Syl! You must also realize that the prices all over are shooting up rapidly on day to day basis whereas the increase in salary is once in six months and mind you that is not related to the soaring market prices.”<br /><br />Sylvia hated to hear the same explanation every time she asked for extra pocket money. She needed money, at least once in a while to treat her friends. But she never picked up the courage to broach the issue with her father.<br /><br />She often talked of it to her cousin Barry, a final year student in the same college appreciated her problem for his father was also in the government and in a much lower position than Sylvia’s father.<br /><br />“Sylvia, I know a guy who is a tour manager. He is taking a rafting group to Rishikesh this Sunday. He needs some one with life guard certificate. Since you have one, why don’t you take up the job?”<br />“It is one week affair, Sunday to Saturday,” he added after a little pause.<br />“You Dumbhead! What do I say to my folks?” Sylvia snapped.<br />Barry had anticipated the question and hence ready with the answer instantly.<br />“Say, you are going out on a college excursion sponsored by some NGO. I will join you in convincing your parents.”<br />Sylvia thought over and felt the idea could be sold to her parents.<br />“What is he paying?” And then she added, “How much do I get out of it………. I mean what is your cut?”<br />Barry ignored her query. He always thought Sylvia was a skeptical type, particularly when it came to money. The ground reality was that they knew each other too well. Both of them were convinced that the other was mean.<br />“I have a feeling and it comes to me too often that you could beat the greediest bitch hands down,” Barry responded nonchalantly.<br />“Well, my dear cousin, thanks for the compliment but<br />that doesn’t take us away from the truth of the matter. I don’t mind being called a bitch if that is necessary to protect my interest.”<br />“Look, you get three hundred rupees a day and all<br />meals. That’s all and what I get is none of your business.”<br />Sylvia stared at Barry and then said with a placating smile, “How about five hundred a day.”<br />Barry seemed to have been bitten by sudden ulcerous pain.<br />“Syl! You are a limit……. You ……. You, he stammered.”<br />“Five hundred bucks and no less. Take it or leave it.”<br /> Barry was still clinching his fists. “You are mean…… in fact, meanest of the means I have ever known.”<br />“Yes my dear cousin, I am mean but so are most of us including your benign self. I know you still must be making enough for yourself.”<br /> The arguments however concluded with Sylvia holding to her price tag and Barry giving in reluctantly.<br /><br />“By the way, what are you going to do with so much of money?” A naïve question but Barry couldn’t hold himself asking.<br />Sylvia was quiet for a moment and then suddenly she turned somber.<br />“Barry! You may laugh at me or disbelieve altogether. I have been feeling slighted when ever my friends take me out for a treat and brag about it thereafter and the worse is, I can not reciprocate.”<br />Barry was in maize. Sylvia continued, “You know the monthly pocket money I get is not good enough to enter a coffee house. For once I want to give a decent treat to all my friends.<br />Barry didn’t buy the story. Sylvia was not the person he knew who would spend her hard earned money on her friends. It was hurting him inside that due to circumstantial compulsion, he had agreed to a high fee for Sylvia. It was a legal requirement to have a life saving guard with a rafting group and he was aware that those guys always acted pricey.<br /><br /><br />All went well. The group was very happy with the expedition and with Sylvia in particular. They complimented her and loaded her with small goodies. The tour operator too was quite pleased with Sylvia.<br /><br />Sylvia was very pleased with a fat fee packet under her belt. On the following Thursday she invited half a dozen of her friends at an expensive joint in a popular Mall for a treat. Since the money had come through Barry, she thought it proper to invite him also.<br /><br />Sylvia went home, had a quick wash and changed in to her favourite purple gown. She took an auto-rickshaw to reach the party joint. She was in an effusive mood humming her favourite tunes. She paid the auto driver, alighted from the auto and entered the Mall. Suddenly she had an urge to buy her favourite perfume and apply it before joining her friends.<br /><br />It was a grand treat, more than her friends could have expected. They were enjoying and Sylvia for the first time felt herself an integral part of the group. She was in high spirits and then she wanted to distribute the goodies amongst her friends. She looked in to her bag and suddenly she realized her purse, which she had put in it was missing. She searched the bag several times with no luck. Sylvia was now frantic. The party was in full swing. Her friends were in expansive mood and so was Barry who knew the extent of Sylvia’s fee.<br /><br />Sylvia got up and asked Barry to come out with her and then she told him that her money bag had been pinched in the Mall.<br />“What are you talking? How can it be? And now how will you foot the bill?”<br />“Barry! Please go to the manager. Try to explain the situation to him.” Then handing Barry her gold chain she said, “Pawn this with him until I find money to pay the bill.”<br /><br />Barry was apprehensive. He had an inhibition that it could be a prank from Sylvia. I will be doomed if I were to pay the bill. Besides, he felt it would be impossible to recover the money from his cousin.<br />“Let me see what can be done,” he grumbled taking the gold chain from Sylvia.<br /><br />Sylvia joined the group back trying her best to look normal. Barry was in the back room with the manager. Her friends were busy enjoying but they didn’t miss to see Sylvia’s distraught face. Besides, the party time was getting lengthened beyond normal expectation.<br />“Any problem Syl?” One of them asked.<br />“No, no. Please carry on,” Sylvia managed to say feebly looking towards the manager’s cabin and praying that Barry succeeded in persuading the manager and that the manager didn’t create any fuss.<br />It was seemingly a long time since Barry was closeted with the manager. Sylvia prayed and prayed for the success of the mission.<br /><br />Sylvia turned stone when she saw her mother entering the restaurant. The old lady came over and hugged her with a smile.<br />“Child! Take it easy. Barry has told me everything. Don’t you worry darling. I appreciate; you do need extra pocket money once in a while. Now tell your friends to continue and enjoy the party,” she whispered.B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-55543322214361449002010-09-26T00:50:00.000-07:002010-09-26T00:52:32.973-07:00THE GRASS HOPPERI had seen her first time in a party. It was the marriage anniversary of Ajay and Sudha, my doctor friends. I was in high spirits; virtually and emotionally because Ajay has been my oldest pal. We had gone through the thick and thin of life together. <br /><br /> She had the touch of arrogance. Beautiful, yes she was and she was charming. Tall and shapely, in fact she was alluring and captivating. Dressed to the occasion, she carried the freshness of the flowers, and a mesmerising smile on her lips. Looking at her, I was swooning and the first thing I did was to talk of it with Ajay.<br /> "Ajay, who is that dame in the light blues next to the flower vase, up there", I asked him pointing towards the right corner of the hall.<br /> "Ah Ha! You too have been bowled over."<br /> "Not exactly but then she is attractive. Isn't she?"<br /> "Well Sir, she is Dr. Amita Shukla, the new doctor posted in my department. Has in fact joined recently."<br /> "What is her husband?” I asked, trying to look un-inquisitive.<br /> Ajay waited for a few seconds and then said, “She is a<br />divorcee.”<br /> “A divorcee! My God! Such an enticing colleague by your<br />side and a divorcee. Lucky, you!”<br /> "Don't be stupid," Ajay said giving a wry smile and then added with a broad grin, "Incidentally, she is an anaesthetist." I could not miss the stress on the last word.<br /> "She is worth any thing yar. You don't live many lives. As it is, she need not give anaesthesia to the patients; a look at her is enough," I said smiling. And to press home my brimming exciting, I added, "Who would like to be anaesthetized? I wouldn't mind even if I was lacerated if only she remained in front of me.”<br /> "You are incorrigible,” Ajay said and walked away to<br />attend other guests.<br /> <br /> Now I had several ideas coming to my head to get myself introduced to the bewitching lady. She must have noticed me often talking to Ajay, I thought. And that could be the best plank to launch myself, I thought.<br /> I called a waiter to follow me and started offering drinks to the guests. I noticed that she was watching me from the corner of her eyes. "Be brave", a voice spoke within me and propelled me towards her.<br /> "Good evening,” I said and then with a slight bow I added, “Care for a drink?"<br /> "No thanks. I just had one" was her brief reply and before I could think of any other appropriate address, she walked away. I was dumbfounded and hurt. Seldom had I experienced such indignation. I abandoned the host’s role mid way and walked to the other corner of the hall. I was musing and licking my wounds when Ajay appeared again from nowhere.<br /> "Sad indeed! No?" He said with a wide grin.<br /> “Shut up you bastard! Bloody sadist! And I don't need your sympathies,” I said looking at the ceiling.<br /> “What does she think of herself? An out right arrogant and pretentious female,” I fumed.<br /> "I don’t know that but I am happy you have met a match.”<br /> I had to do some face saving. I gave a rather loud coquettish laugh and said, “Let's drink to those spicy, spiral curves.” And then I lifted my glass in Ajay’s direction and added, “And to the fiendish friends."<br /> "May you go to the hell and by the quickest possible route,"<br />Ajay said and walked away. <br /> <br /> I had forgotten the episode as one of the pranks of my wavering, lustful mind. It often happened with me that I fell in love with every beautiful woman I met. My imagination would run wild, weaving stories, chasing fantasies. For days together, I would be lost in my quixotic romanticised world till it petered off over the passage of time or in better circumstances, another exciting subject, real or imaginary entered the scene. <br /> I once told Ajay, “Perhaps I am suffering from schizophrenia. I debate both ways on the superiority of virtues over vices but at the same time I believe that vice has the variety and that is all what matters to a human being.”<br /> I was aware that I was perhaps carrying a label but it never bothered me, I wanted to live life my way.<br /><br /> I was a free lance journalist and I fancied writing stories and poems. A busy bachelor, travelling places and meeting people from different cross sections of society. Ajay knew me from my school days, we were neighbours. I was the only son of my parents. When eleven, I had lost my mother and it was only a year later that my father married again. That changed everything. Ajay had shared all my agonising moments. After schooling, Ajay took to medicine and I adopted a wanderer’s life.<br /> <br /> “I wish I could convince you but I always feel there is some thing wanting in your life, you are running after the unrealistic, the non-existing, dwelling in a world of fantasy,” Ajay often told me.<br /> “Ajay! Desire is a force that keeps you going. You ought not measure the longevity of pleasure; a few ecstatic moments in life may out weigh the entire life of comfort.” <br /> “I don’t believe in frittering away life since I consider it precious. I want to feel the ground below me and unlike you, I don’t trust flimsy suppositions,” Ajay opined. <br /> I could not emphatically deny his observations for I believed in him even if not in his words. This had happened often. We would sit together, argue and end up with status-quo.<br /> <br /> It was after a few months of Ajay’s marriage anniversary that I got in to a problem. I had a new junior, a young girl, Lalita whom I had taken out for dinner. I was in my full mettle after few large whiskeys. We had out after dinner and walking towards the parking. I was holding Lalita’s hand for two reasons. First, that I was not in a position to walk straight and second, and more importantly for me, holding the hand of the young exciting colleague was giving me abounding sensuous pleasure.<br /> As we were crossing the road, Lalita was knocked down by a speeding car and I too was thrown over. I managed to get up, summed up my wits and then rushed her to the hospital. I rang up Ajay. He was not at home. His wife replied that he should be back any time. I told her of the accident and requested her to tell Ajay to reach the hospital as soon as possible.<br /> We were rushing Lalita to wards the OT when I saw Dr. Amita, the lady doctor I had confronted in Ajay’s wedding anniversary. I could hardly speak when she said, "Please do not worry. We will take care of your friend," and went in to the OT. I was not sure whether she had recognised me.<br /> <br /> Lalita, the only child of her parents was lying on the operation table and I was worried of the impact of the story on my career. That it was past two in the night and that I was quite sozelled at the time of the accident would have made an exciting story. <br /> Besides, I didn’t know how to break the news to Lalita’s parents. Never had I felt so remorseful in my life. Tears of anguish were burning me from top to toe.<br /> It was after an hour that a nurse came out from the OT and told me that Lalita’s condition was stable and that the operation was successful. <br /> I was tired and waiting for Ajay to come out of the OT. Depressed, I slumped on a sofa when Dr. Amita came over to me. I was not in a position to start any conversation. I wanted to thank her but words were failing me.<br /> "Don't worry. Your friend is Ok now", she said.<br /> "Thank you doctor" I managed to say.<br /> “Let’s go to Dr. Ajay’s room. He will be joining us soon." Then smiling she added, “Why don't you have a cup of tea. You need one."<br /> A cruel joke, I thought. To be in her company, I would have given up my one arm but here I was not in a good enough frame of mind to have a fulsome look at her. <br /> <br /> I thanked Dr. Amita once again when she told me that she had informed the parents of Lalita. It was a big load off my chest. Ajay had joined us by this time and a few seconds later, I found my faculties soaring again as I saw the curvaceous hind side of Dr. Amita bending over the table to pick up a cup.<br /> I feigned looking towards the ceiling when she surprised me, "Tell me is hunting females your favourite hobby?"<br /> I was not prepared for such frontal attack. I thought the situation was still serious. Nor could I say that she was wrong. “Had she read my mind,” I was vexed.<br /> "I don't believe in chasing anyone,” I said wanting to rest the topic. <br /> "Now that Lalita is out of danger, I suppose you consider yourself absolved of all responsibilities. The file is closed, no?"<br /> I was nearly stunned. She was not only outspoken but ruthlessly correct.<br /> "Look! Don’t you realise, story of this accident can cause her immense harm at the onset of her career. <br /> “Dr. Amita! This is a baseless insinuation, an irresponsible comment,” I was by then quite irritated. <br /> “Isn’t it a fact? I feel sad for you. You are like a grasshopper keeping yourself away from the ground,” she said looking straight in to my eyes.<br /> I looked away from her gaze. This female can never be my friend I thought. “Thanks for your observation and for the help and the rest perhaps we may talk it over sometime later.”<br /> "Is that an invitation?" She asked grinning. I didn’t respond but her laugh had a contagious effect on me. I smiled.<br /> “Be warned that I am an anaesthetist,” now she said with a bigger smile.<br /> "You will need to give me an extra strong dose, I don’t faint easily.”<br /> <br /> During that period I often met Dr. Amita to find out Lalita’s progress. I had intentionally not renewed the offer of invitation. Her words even in lighter vein had made me feel uneasy. I realized for the first time a pit in my stomach.<br /> <br /> Lalita was discharged from the hospital. Her one leg was under plaster but she could walk with a support. A couple of days later Lalita was discharged from the hospital. week later she was I went with her parents to thank the doctors and staff attending her. Then I told them to wait in my car and went again to Dr. Amita’s chamber.<br /> “Thanks a lot, doctor.”<br /> "It is all right. I am happy to see Lalita’s progress. Take care of her and .......” she said giving me a searching look. <br /> "Thank you," I said and as I turned, she asked, "Is the invitation still open?"<br /> Was it a capricious suggestion, I couldn't make out. "Any time", I said and came out thanking her again.<br /><br /> I related the incidence to Ajay a few days later. His reaction was not as I had expected. I had expected him to pull my leg, pass some caustic remark or laugh it out as pure fantasy of my mind. Instead he was very sombre.<br /> "What's the matter?" I was surprised.<br /> He was quiet for some moments and then said, "Life is not what it looks to be. You have been flirting with life; your own and others but there are more pressing demands on life than mere flirtation."<br /> I was about to react to his words but Ajay held me with a gesture of his hand and continued.<br /> "Amita is so caring, putting other person at ease, never letting others know her troubles. Lost her mother about ten years ago and three years ago, her father and brother met with a serious accident. Both are handicapped. She looks after them with no time to think about herself.<br /> She and her doctor husband were offered an UN assignment but she declined the offer to utter dislike of her husband who was very keen to take up the new job.<br /> “You don’t appreciate the professional advantage of this assignment apart from the monetary benefits. We can engage a nurse to look after your father and brother,” her husband had suggested.<br /> Dr. Amita was but firm. “I can not leave them in this condition. A nurse can not give them the psychological and emotional support they need. They need me here more than anything.”<br /><br /> “Both of them stood to their grounds resulting in their separation,” Ajay concluded.<br /> I was quite shaken. I felt sorry for Dr. Amita and I decided to make amends.<br /><br /> I went to her house one evening. It was a quite unexpected visit. That has been the bane of my life. Unpredictable, that is what I have always been. I didn't care how she or her people would react to an unannounced visit.<br /> "Hello Doctor!" I said as she opened the door.<br /> "Anything is the problem?" she asked me with apprehension. <br /> "Nothing. I just thought to call on you and talk to you."<br /> She gave me a vexed look.<br /> "Look! I owe you an apology."<br /> "For what?"<br /> "For my unfriendly, irresponsible behaviour."<br /> "Don't be silly", she said in an unguarded moment and then realising the slip she hurriedly added, "Oh! I am sorry....I mean......"<br /> Intercepting her I said, "Yes that is the way I like people to talk, frank and free."<br /> She wanted to say something but withheld herself.<br /> <br /> I went in and saw her father and brother, both were sitting in wheel chairs around the dining table. They were having tea and invited me to join them. I learnt that Amita’s father was a professor of History in the state university before he met with the accident and her brother; an engineering student was in his teens.<br /> They were in a jestful mood, pulling each other's leg, irony of fate that both having none. Doctor Amita made tea for me. Words would not come out my mouth as I took the cup and I could not I look them in their eyes.<br /> The father and son were discussing World Cup soccer that was the ongoing event those days and I was amazed to see their enthusiasm. Doctor Amita told me that both of them would sleep during the day time to watch the games during the night hours.<br /> <br /> I was jolted to the core. To be honest, I was afire. How different was Doctor Amita than I? Wasn’t she right in saying that I was a grasshopper jumping all over, never touching the ground, never having the feel of reality? I felt belittled but lighter in soul. When I came out of the room, I had tears in my eyes.<br /><br /> "Thanks a lot Doctor,” I managed to say and ran towards my car.B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3663383791826742277.post-3973260373314947422010-08-30T01:33:00.000-07:002010-08-30T01:54:29.686-07:00HANSULI'S DREAM<em>Author’s Note: Hansuli is a silver bracelet like ornament worn around neck by women in the hills of Garhwal and Kumaon. The name Hansuli symbolizes prosperity and happiness.<br /></em> <br />She had been convicted of homicide and awarded fourteen years rigorous imprisonment. The judge in his judgment said that he was taking a lenient view because of her two minor children.<br /> Yes, she was the mother of two sons. Looking outside from the tiny holes in that police van, taking her to the central jail, she could see the trees, all running backwards. So were her thoughts; running back to painful memories, anguish over her broken dreams and the frightening thoughts of the future awaiting her sons.<br /> The police van was winding along the curves of the hill road and her mind was sinking deep in the memory lane. What was that she could remember of her childhood?<br /><br /> Her name was Hansuli, the only daughter of the village grocer, Sukhram Sah. She was always pampered by her father and cursed by her mother for being careless and clumsy. She was very beautiful and her father was dotted on her.<br /> "I will marry her to a prince and my daughter will dwell in riches." That was the dream of this shop keeper of a tiny hill village. There were no schools and in any case those days need was not felt to send girls to schools. A marriage in a good family was the ultimate wish of every girl’s father in this part of the world.<br />If the dreams of Sukhram Sah were to come true, Hansuli would have been married to some sepoy of the Garhwal Rifles or Kumaon Regiment or she would have been given in marriage to some one with a house and little land. Neither of them unfortunately came to happen for Sukhram Sah, one day after excessive drinking in a marriage feast died without leaving any assurance of his dreams.<br /> Hansuli was then fifteen. Now the biggest ailment of her ailing mother was the young daughter who by all social norms was crossing the marriageable age.<br /> "If alone I could get Hansuli married, I too could die a peaceful death", she would bemoan before every sympathizer, requesting every one of them to find a groom, any groom for that matter.<br /><br /> At last a groom was found for Hansuli. Ganpat Sah, the goldsmith in the next village had lost his wife. By local standards, Ganpat Sah was quite well off. He had a smithy shop, a servant, good paddy fields, pair of oxen, couple of cows and a buffalo. Perfect match as late Sukhram Sah would have called it. However there was a little snag. Ganpat Sah was nearing fifty and was already a grand father from his daughter's side.<br /> "Look at his wealth and prosperity. Your daughter will live like a queen. Ganpat Sah promises to cover her with gold and he will also give you four thousand rupees," Hansuli’s mother was told by the matchmaker.<br />"And remember, there is no dearth of girls for rich men like him. On the other hand, your fatherless daughter is getting overage. You can not find any match for her, let alone such ideal match."<br /><br /> Hansuli was thus married off. She was a rich man's wife. On her first visit to her mother after marriage, she distributed sweets to all homes of her village, offered prayers to the local deity and gave two sarees to her mother. And of course, no one missed the Gulabad (gold necklace), ear-rings, a bulaak (V-shaped golden ring studded with diamonds) in the lower nose, a large nath (round shaped golden wire with precious stones) on the upper nose and the glittering bangles. She indeed looked like a queen.<br /> Dhanpat Sah was rejuvenated in the company of his young beautiful wife. Hansuli gave birth to two sons. Ganpat Sah was overjoyed to have male descendants. Hansuli looked more charming and beautiful. Ganpat Sah's cup of happiness was full to the brim; rather overflowing.<br /> Ganpat Sah could not hold the cup for long. Following summer, he was one of the victims of cholera epidemic in the villages around. Hansuli was left alone with her two sons and the world to face.<br /><br /> Ganpat Sah had a younger brother, Dhanpat Sah, who never approved of anything that his elder brother did. Dhanpat Sah was not happy when his elder brother married Hansuli. He had several reasons for his dislike for his elder brother, jealously being the foremost.<br /> Dhanpat Sah had seven children; four daughters and three sons. He was a worried man, always swearing, cursing his fate and his brother in turn. "Why couldn't my elder brother give a little out of his riches to me, his only younger brother? Why should sons of the same father not help each other?” Dhanpat Sah often lamented. <br /><br /> Dhanpat Sah was further dejected when Hansuli gave birth to two sons for with it his hope of his brother dying without leaving any male descendent had been razed to dust. He cursed the day his brother married Hansuli, cursed his brother who according to him, despite one leg in the grave had married a young girl.<br /> "What a perversion! When he should have devoted himself to prayers and weaned himself away from worldly allurements, he has brought a young bride to satisfy his lust.” Dhanpat Sah would lament before everyone he met.<br /> The death of his elder brother therefore brought back glimpse of hope to Dhanpat Sah. If alone he could keep Hansuli in his fold, he could get a share from his brother's property. Hansuli was then twenty, a simple village woman unaware and incapable of comprehending Dhanpat Sah's designs. She had accepted him as the Karta (the head, the doer) of the family.<br /> Hansuli helped generously when Dhanpat Sah's two daughters were married. She gave a part of her jewelry to her nieces and money to Dhanpat Sah for meeting other expenses. <br /> Slowly, Dhanpat Sah had acquired authority in the household. He wanted his writ in all matters. Hansuli had to compromise for her sons were too young. The only wish, her only dream was to bring up her sons well; give them good education.<br /><br /> Dhanpat Sah lacked the skills of a good goldsmith and soon lost the clientele of his elder brother’s time. He closed the goldsmithy and opened a grocery shop. It hurt Hansuli but she realized that the shop had to be used in some way or the other to sustain the family.<br /> Dhanpat Sah was now growing in health as well in ambition. His amorous interests were increasing as well. Hansuli was a fully developed woman now, beautiful and appealing. Hansuli could sense his designs and avoided Dhanpat Sah as much as possible. Dhanpat Sah would come to her in the evenings on one pretext or the other and unduly delay his departure.<br /><br /> One evening, when in a drunken state, Dhanpat Sah came to Hansuli who was feeding her children. Sitting on a charpoy (wooden bed woven with coir ropes), he complained of body ache and several ailments that were chasing him ever since he had taken over the responsibilities of both houses. <br /> "My wife has not brought a bit of luck that you brought to my elder brother," he told her. Then he lamented over his wife's apathy towards him. <br /> "Now that he is no more, why don't you share this luck with me? After all this is an accepted custom and your sons will get a father,” Dhanpat Sah suggested to her.<br /><br /> Hansuli was fed up with Dhanpat Sah’s advances; she in fact loathed his visits. The money her husband had left was running out fast for Dhanpat Sah always complained of poor sale and damages due to pests and rats.<br /> Hansuli was enraged with the latest suggestion. The altercation between them was heightened. For Dhanpat Sah it was the moment of decision. “Either I get over the arrogance of this woman and subjugate her or she would become independent of me for all times,” he told to himself.<br /> "I am going to sleep in this house and you will be my woman hereafter. I know the young studs chasing you around. I will not allow that to happen; I will not allow the honour of my family sullied. I am the Karta of this family and you will hereafter obey me implicitly as your man."<br /> Hansuli writhed with anger. The insinuation of infidelity on one hand and the right to molestation on the other was too much to bear.<br /> "What do you mean, you rascal? Have you ever seen me talking to a man? Aren't you ashamed to speak thus to your elder brother's widow?"<br /> Dhanpat Sah had no proof of the serious insinuation but he didn’t want to give up. “Every woman desires a man and it takes no time for a young woman like you to slip. In any case why this can’t this remain within the family?" <br /> "Get out of my house and next time if you ever come here, I will char your face with a burning wood. You devil! Get out", shouting thus, she closed the door at Dhanpat Sah’s face and bolted the room from inside.<br /> "I will teach you bitch a lesson. I will make you my woman and I will see who comes to your rescue." Dhanpat Sah went back muttering threats. He was annoyed with every one and he wanted to avenge his insult. Above all, he wanted that woman to capitulate to his desire.<br /><br /> In the middle of a night, in that hill village when it is pitch dark and even dogs find it too inconvenient to bark due to biting cold, Dhanpat Sah was heading towards the house of his late brother. With a sickle in his hand, Dhanpat Sah was writhing with anger and burning with lust. A full bottle of country liquor that he had drained down his throat had apparent effect; his legs were unsteady, his hands were shaking, and his senses were out of his control.<br /><br /> He wanted to overpower the sleeping woman and once done, he wanted to tame for all times. That was the plan. But it didn't work. Hansuli was young and stronger. After initial reversal, she regained her strength coming to know that the intruder was none other than the debauch brother of her late husband. Dhanpat Sah lost the battle, his clothes were torn and his breath failed. The influence of liquor had incited him to raid his brother's wife but sapped his body strength. And a hard blow of wood pulled out from the hearth did the final act. This time Hansuli closed the door behind him after giving him a couple of hard kicks.<br /><br /> With much difficulty, Dhanpat Sah could reach back his house, where waiting for him was his aging wife. First- aid was given by the elderly woman to the wounded who was now much more determined to oust Hansuli; the woman who had usurped the property of his brother.<br /><br /> A few weeks later when Hansuli was out of her house, attending a marriage, her house was gutted by fire. The iron box containing all her cash and valuable clothes was no more than a twisted ash container and the silver box containing her jewelry was no where. There were doubts in everyone's mind but nothing could be substantiated. The net result was that Hansuli was reduced to abject penury and she had no option but to take shelter in Dhanpat Sah’s house.<br /> The elder son of Hansuli was six by now and she was very keen that he should be sent to the school. Dhanpat Sah was not in favour of this. He wanted the young lad to help him in the shop and to attend to errand jobs. Hansuli was no more than a domestic servant in the household. This she didn't object but her sons being treated as labourers was intolerable to her. There were altercations often. She was beaten by Dhanpat Sah who still smarted under the insult of his amorous adventures. He had not succeeded in taming Hansuli and that hurt his male ego.<br /><br /> One night, emboldened by the influence of liquor, he again assaulted Hansuli. This time Hansuli was beaten severely, her blouse shred to pieces, and her sari pulled down. Hansuli and her children wailed loudly and shouted for help. Dhanpat Sah was not prepared for such a turn of events. He didn't know what to do. Taking advantage of that, Hansuli ran out of the house in the semi-clothed condition towards the village chowk. Villages folks had come out, they saw her plight, but thought it proper to let it remain a matter within the family.<br /> After some time, Hansuli returned to her place. She saw her sons smitten with fear and sobbing behind the door. Hansuli took the decision. “This village is no more livable for us. If I were to labour, and yet get insulted; I should rather to go to some unknown place where I will not be assaulted,” she thought.<br /> In the wee hours of the day, Hansuli left the house of her husband along with her two sons for an unknown destination. She took the first bus that was going to Gochar, a small town on way to the Hindu holy shrine of Badrinath.<br /><br /> It was now over three years that Hansuli was in the small town of Gochar. She was working in a small way side hotel which catered to the pilgrims to Badrinath during the summer months. Its owner, Than Singh, had a small room below the hotel which became the abode of Hansuli and her sons.<br /> Than Singh was a jovial man in his early fifties. He talked a lot and enjoyed drinking in a company. He regaled his customers with jokes and was easily convinced by other person's arguments.<br /> Than Singh would return to his village in the evening leaving the management of the tea-shop to Hansuli who would keep the place clean, start the oven in the morning and prepare tea for the early arrivals. Hansuli persuaded Than Singh to buy a buffalo so that the requirement of milk could be met locally. Than Singh admired Hansuli for bringing good luck to him.<br /> Hansuli was satisfied. Both her sons were going to a school. In the afternoon they would come back and help her in serving the customers or delivering tea to other shops in that small market.<br /><br />By now Hansuli knew that a widow was an object of desire and notwithstanding his good nature, Hansuli had realized that Than Singh was no exception. She therefore had to make a choice. She compromised this time and accepted the status of a servant and a mistress of Than Singh. It was a pragmatic arrangement that suited both the sides. <br /> Than Singh helped Hansuli to acquire a piece of land adjoining the shop. Industrious as she was, she started growing vegetables in her land. Hansuli by now had some money of her own and she was bringing up her children well. She had forgotten her past, was happy with her present and cherished a dream for the future. <br /><br /> Her past but was dogging her. The word at last reached the remote village of Dhanpat Sah that his sister-in-law was working as a maid servant in a hotel in Gochar. Her newly acquired prosperity was told to him in multiple measures and of course he was told of her new status. It was this part of the information that inflamed the dormant ego of Dhanpat Sah. He decided to bring her back.<br /><br /> Gochar being a small town, Dhanpat Sah had no difficulty in locating Than Singh's hotel. He saw it from a distance and also saw his sister-in-law serving attending to the customers. He decided to wait till it was dark.<br /> That fateful day, clouds had collected over the valley of river Alaknanda. It started drizzling by the evening and it was cold. Than Singh who had a good season that year, was in his element. He decided to celebrate the day's end with a bottle of liquor in the company of Hansuli.<br /> The hotel had closed. Hansuli' sons now slept there, leaving the room below to their mother and Than Singh, her companion. Than Singh was enjoying his drink and Hansuli was cooking meals for him.<br /> Suddenly, there was a big thud on the door and in came fully inebriated Dhanpat Sah giving a snide laugh to both of them. <br /> He turned towards Hansuli and shouted, "So this is how you are bringing good name to the family. If you were so hungry of men, what was wrong with me, the younger brother of your husband? But you have the traits of a harlot, a prostitute and you need a new stud every night to satiate your lust." Then he suddenly lifted a burning wood from the hearth and moved towards Than Singh.<br /> "First, I will teach you a lesson, you bastard!" He growled advancing towards Than Singh. Than Singh though younger and stronger than Dhanpat Sah was not prepared for such an awkward situation. He didn't want to create a scene. He was out of his wits, afraid of being denounced before his folks. Giving Dhanpat Sah a big push, he ran out of the house leaving Hansuli to deal with her visitor.<br /><br /> "And now you bitch, I will tell you what I am going to do with you. I will satiate your desire for ever," he said trying to catch hold of Hansuli. Hansuli once again cursed her fate.<br /> "Go away, you devil. I have nothing to do with you. I left every bit of the property to you. I said not a word even when you burnt my house and took away all my gold and cash. Why don't you leave me and my children alone?"<br /> "We will talk of that later. First you come to me, you bitch in heat", he said his voice slurring due to intoxication and excitement. <br /><br /> As he plunged towards her, Hansuli saw the sickle hanging on the wall. Mustering all her strength, she gave him a push and leaped for the sickle.<br /> It was all in a flash. A full force blow and Dhanpat Sah was lying in a pool of blood shouting for help at the top of his failing voice.<br /> Dhanpat Sah could not survive. Hansuli was tried for murder and the judge taking a lenient view sentenced her for fourteen years rigorous imprisonment. It was for meeting this punishment that she was being taken to the central jail. <br /> As the van moved away, her thoughts returned to the small hill town of Gochar where her elder son washed the dishes and her younger son begged for alms.B S Thapliyalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11927007718356234106noreply@blogger.com0