PARIJAT-7

HIS LANGUAGE WAS CHASTE, ELEGANT AND SOPHISTICATED. IT TOUCHES YOUR CHORD. IT HUMS IN YOUR EARS. HE SPEAKS FROM HIS HEART WITH TOUCH OF IRONY AND AGONY. THE VEINS IN HIS NECK STAND UP WHEN HE IS AT HIS ARGUMENTATIVE BEST. BUT THERE IS A FLOW IN HIS TALK. HE LOOKS INTENSIVE WITH THOSE SUNKEN EYES AND HIGH CHECK BONE AND SEMI WHITE UNTRIMMED BEARD. PEOPLE CALL HIM BY MANY NAMES –CRAZY, BROKEN HEART, FAILURE, LUNATIC, AND VAGABOND AND YET, HE IS UNFAZED. HE TALKS CONTINUOUSLY ON HIS OWN. HE DOES NOT REQUIRE A PARTICULAR LISTENER. HE SEEMS TO TALK FOR EVERYBODY AND TO EVERYBODY.

JOHN HAD MET HIM FOR THE FIRST TIME NEAR THAT TEA STALL. PEOPLE HAD MOVED AWAY AS HE APPROACHED. HE CAME AND EXTENDED HIS HAND. JOHN FELT AS IF HIS BONE IS GOING TO CRUSH AS HE SHOOK HIS HAND. IT WAS A KNUCKLE BREAKER. HE LAUGHS WITH HISSING SOUND WITH THOSE ODD SIZED AND YELLOWISH TEETH OUT. DIRTY DRESS WITH A FESTOON OF SEMIDRY AND SEMI ROTTEN VEGETABLES HUNG FROM THE NECK. HE WAS IRRITATINGLY SMELLY. SURPRISINGLY HE HAD A FLUTE IN LEFT HAND. HEY, MR. JOHN NICE MEETING YOU, GOOD SAMARITAN. I AM TOLD YOU WORKING FOR POWER IN NAME OF POOR. YOU ARE A HYPOCRITE PERSONIFIED. DO YOU REQUIRE A RESERVOIR TO WATER THE LAND OF LANDLESS? HE GRINNED. TELL ME WHO THAT SECRET POWER IS. HE LAUGHED WITH HISSING SOUND.

JOHN MOVED TWO STEPS BACKWARD. HE FELT LITTLE UNEASY AND UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THAT AGGRESSIVE APPROACH. WORDS ARE PIERCING. HEY JOHN, HE CONTINUED AS IF JOHN IS OLD BUDDY MEETING TOGETHER AFTER YEARS, YOU LOOK LIKE THAT CREATURE LIVING THOUSAND MILES DEEP INSIDE THE SEA, I MEAN, DESIGNED TO CARRY TONNES OF WEIGHT AND IF YOU DO NOT HAVE THAT PRESSURE OVER YOU, THEN YOUR INTERNAL INBUILT PRESSURE IS GOING TO TEAR YOU APART IN THE ABSENCE OF COUNTER PRESSURE. AH, NICE CHAP DESIGNED TO CARRY PRESSURE. BUT FOR WHOM YOU CARRY THAT PRESSURE POOR OR POWER. HE AGAIN STARTED TO GRIN. THERE IS LITTLE CALMNESS IN HIS EYES. INTENSITY HAS DIES DOWN A LITTLE.

JOHN FELT LITTLE RELAXED AS HE TURNED TO MOVE AWAY. HE STARTED TO BLOW THAT FLUTE IN ODD AND NOT SO SYNCHRONIZED TUNE MIXED WITH SOME BRILLIANT TUNE. HE APPEARS TO HAVE A COMPLETE HOLD OVER THAT HALLOW PIECE OF SLOTTED BAMBOO OTHERWISE THE QUICK MANEUVER BETWEEN MEDIOCRE TO BRILLIANT IS NOT POSSIBLE. AS HE MOVED TO A DISTANCE HE TURNED BACK, RAISED HIS LEFT HAND AND YELLED, BY THE WAY JOHN, I AM RAGHU. NICE MEETING YOU, MY FRIEND OF POWER, SORRY-----, HEY DAMN IT, MY FRIEND OF POOR. HE BLEW THE FLUTE ONCE AGAIN AND STARTED RUNNING IN A JUMPING AND SWINGING GAIT OF A TEN YEARS OLD.

ALL THROUGH JOHN HAS MAINTAINED A STOIC SILENCE. SILENT IN MOUTH MAY AVOID MANY PROBLEMS AND SMILE IN MOUTH MAY SOLVE MANY PROBLEMS. JOHN FELT LITTLE UNEASY, EVERYTHING HAPPENED IN A DROP OF AN EYE LID. BUT IT LEFT AN IMPACT- POOR OR POWER? YEAH, THERE IS A MEANING TO IT. BUT WHAT EXACTLY IT EXPRESSES? SOMEBODY TRYING TO SYMPATHIES, SAID TO JOHN, FORGET SIR, HE IS A LUNATIC. MAD. UNSUCCESSFUL CREATURE HAS LOST EVERYTHING BUSINESS TO LOVE, EVERYTHING. HE HAD A CHAIN OF VEGETABLE SHOPS IN NEARBY TOWN BUT HE LOST IT TO SUPER MARKET.

JOHN CAME BACK TO CONSTRUCTION SITE. TRUCKS OF BRICKS, STONE CHIPS AND SANDS ARE GETTING UNLOADED. JUNIOR STAFFS HAVE ALSO JOINED.LABOUR CAMP AND SITE OFFICE ARE BEING CONSTRUCTED. SURVEY WORK IS OVER. THE REAL CONSTRUCTION WILL COMMENCE SOON.

JOHN HAS GATHERED EVERYTHING ABOUT RAGHU, THE LUNATIC BEFORE HE CAME BACK TO CONSTRUCTION SITE. IT IS STORY OF BIG FISH EATING AWAY SMALL FISHES. STRANGE WORLD .DESPITE ALL PHILOSOPHICAL TALK OF EQUALITY IT HAPPENS. THAT IS REAL. THAT IS LIFE. THAT IS THIS WORLD. SELF CENTERED TO CORE. SURVIVAL OF FITTEST. RAW TRUTH. COMPETE OR FIZZLE OUT. BUT HOW DO YOU SURVIVE IN THAT BATTLE OF THE UNEQUAL. IDEAL DO NOT SURVIVE IN REAL WORLD. IDEALISM IS GOOD TO READ BUT HAS LITTLE MEANING IN PRACTICAL WORLD WHERE REALITY RULES. RAGHU WAS AWARE OF THAT. HE WAS INTELLIGENT ENOUGH TO UNDERSTAND THAT. HE KNEW THE ENTRY OF SUPER MARKET WILL EAT AWAY SMALL TRADERS LIKE HIM. EVERYBODY WAS LAUGHING WHEN HE EXPRESSED HIS APPREHENSION. THEY MOCKINGLY REPLIED DO YOU THINK SUPERMARKETS ARE GOING TO COMPETE WITH VEGETABLE VENDORS LIKE YOU. THEY WERE SO TRUE, SUPERMARKETS DO NOT COMPETE WITH VEGETABLE SHOPS, THEY SIMPLY EAT AWAY IT. THEY CALLED HIM CRAZY AND MAD; TODAY ALSO THEY CALL HIM THE SAME. WHY? BECAUSE HE TELLS THE TRUTH! SUPERMARKETS NOT ONLY SOLD THE VEGETABLES , BUT IN SUPERB SHOW OF POWER, ARROGANCE AND SO CALLED BUSINESS ACUMEN, THEY ALSO PURCHASED THE LANDS GROWING VEGETABLES CUTTING OUT THE SUPPLY OF ALL SMALL VENDORS LIKE RAGHU .HIS WORLD STARTED MELTING . EVERY ASPIRATION, HOPE, DREAM AND LOVE WASHED AWAY WITH THAT. WHAT REMAINED A GARLAND OF ROTTEN BUT SMELLY VEGETABLES? A SMELLY DREAM, A SMELLY BODY. A SMELLY MIND, A LUNATIC MIND WITH SMELLY SHRIEK. YET HE SPEAKS TRUTH, THE TRUTH OF REALITY WHEN THAT FLUTE RHYMES.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

JOHN FOUND IT DIFFICULT TO SLEEP. IT IS OUTRAGEOUSLY COLD OUTSIDE. BUT JOHN IS BOILING IN THOUGHT. SLEEP WITH ITS FAIRY DREAM HAS DESERTED HIM. HE WANTED TO HAVE SHOWER IN THAT COLD NIGHT. HE SHIVERED AND STARTED SNEEZING IN COLD AS WATER STARTED POURING FROM SHOWER. HE WIPED HIS BODY DRY AND AGAIN TRIED TO SLEEP. DISTURB THOUGHTS ARE SLOWING DOWN. HE STARTED YAWNING IN BED. IT IS A NIGHTMARE, NO, IT CAN NOT BE DREAM. DREAMS ARE SWEET AND ROMANTIC. THIS IS SCARY. THIS IS NIGHTMARE. IN HOT DESSERT OF NOTHINGNESS, IT IS JOHN SURROUNDED BY VULTURES. HE IS MOTIONLESS IN BARE BODY. VULTURES ARE SWOOPING ON HIM. HE IS TURNING INTO RAGHU AND SCREAMING IN PAIN, YOU RUTHLESS POWER AS SHARP TALONS OF VULTURES TEARS HIM APART. HE SCREAMS IN BLOOD-CURDLING PAIN AS EVERYTHING CRUMBLES IN FRONT OF HIM. VULTURES ARE EATING HIM LIVE, THEY NO LONGER LIKE DEAD. THEY PREY ON LIVE. THEY PREY ON HELPLESS AND MOTIONLESS. TASTE OF BLOOD IS INVITING. NO DIFFERENCE BETWEEN DEAD AND ALIVE FOR THEM, IT IS TEMPTATION OF FRESH BLOOD AND FLESH. THEY BITE HIM WITH THAT HORNY PROJECTING AND HORRIFYING JAWS. IT IS BLOOD, FRESH BLOOD WITH RAW FLESH EVERYWHERE. RAGHU NO LONGER SCREAMS. HE LOOKS TO DISTANCE SOMEBODY IS MOVING AWAY FROM HIM WITH FACE OF SCORN AND HATE. HE CONJURES OF ALL HIS ENERGY TO MOVE. IT IS WEIGHT VULTURES ALL OVER HIM. HE SCREAMS WITH ALL AGONY, DO NOT GO AWAY. YOU HAD PROMISED TO RUN ALONG WITH ME. DO NOT MAKE THIS JOURNEY SO SHORT. DO NOT MAKE ME A MEMORY ON SANDS TO BE BLOWN AWAY TO UNKNOWN. SOUND OF THE SCREAM VANISHES TO OBLIVION IN THAT DESERT OF NOTHINGNESS. HE SEES CHARCOAL OF FIRE. IT IS LAST CHANCE FOR HIM TO CONJURE UP ALL HIS ENERGY TO CALL WITH ALL THAT MELANCHOLY IN HIS COMMAND. HE MOVES UP HIS HAND AS HE OPENED HIS MOUTH FOR THAT LAST CALL. IN SUDDEN LIGHTENING FLASH HE PUTS HIS HANDS IN THAT CHARCOAL OF RED FIRE TO CALL, PLEASE --------------DO---------NOT -----------------GO AWAY. TALONS OF VULTURES CLOSED IN ON HIS EYES. SOON IT BECAME DARK, PITCH DARK IN THAT DESERT OF NOTHINGNESS.-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

JOHN GOT UP WITH THAT LAST SCREAM. IT WAS REAL SCARY NIGHTMARE. IN THAT COLD NIGHT OF HILLS, HE FOUND HIM DRENCHED IN SWEAT. HE OPENED THE DOOR AND CAME OUTSIDE. COOLNESS OF WINTER EMBRACED HIM. IT WAS SURPRISINGLY PLEASING TO HIM. THE HILLY TERRAIN IS REVERBERATING WITH SWEET RHYTHM OF FLUTE. THE MASTER AT HIS BEST. IT IS RESOUNDING IN THAT SHORT HILL DRESSED IN GREEN; STANDING LIKE REPLICA OF GOD .IT IS SMILING AND SPREADING ITS ARM TO EMBRACE WITH LOVE OF A SISTER. WHO IS THIS FLUTE MASTER? WHO IS HE? JOHN STARTED SMILING WITH THE KNOWLEDGE OF KNOWN AND FAMILIARITY. THE DARK SKY ABOVE HIM IS CALM LIKE DEEP OCEAN WITH ALL ITS SMILING STARS GLEAMING AND FLOATING LIKE PARIJATS. THEY ARE THE STARS OF THE SEA, SMILING PARIJATS. THE TIMBRE AND NOTE OF FLUTE IS ENCHANTING AND MESMERIZING. WHO WILL MISS THIS ALLURING, BEWITCHING AND BEGUILING CALL? THE LIVING SOUL WILL CERTAINLY COME BACK, BOUND TO COME BACK TO RUN THAT LAST LAPS TOGETHER. WHO SAYS THIS RELATIONSHIP IS FRAGILE? IT IS NOT FOR A SEASON, IT IS NOT FOR A REASON: IT IS FOREVER!

THIS BLOG IS DEDICATED TO MY FRIEND MERISTELA , A LOVELY SISTER TOO. IN FACT THE LAST LINE OF THIS BLOG IS COPIED FROM HER BLOG WITHOUT HER PERMISSION . SHE WILL PARDON ME FOR THAT.

PARIJAT-6

DRY WINTER MORNING IS ALWAYS IRRITATING. IT GIVES A FEELING OF LETHARGY WITH POOR BLOOD CIRCULATION. AS THE AGE INCREASES THE FEELING OF LETHARGY BECOMES MORE APPARENT WITH LESS TOLERANCE TO COLD. IT WAS COLD OF HILLY TERRAIN, ALL NEW TO JOHN. HE DID NOT WANT TO GET UP FROM THE BED, THOUGH HE FEELS NO MORE SLEEPY. SOMEBODY IS KNOCKING AT THE DOOR. JOHN RELUCTANTLY GOT UP AND DRAGGED HIS FEET TOWARDS THE DOOR. AS HE OPENED THE DOOR, HE SAW A LITTLE HAND OFFERING SOME BLACK LIQUID IN A GLASS TUMBLER. FRESH LEMON TEA WITH BLACK PEEPER, SIR. HAVE A SIP THE COLD WILL RUN AWAY, HE CONVEYED WITH STYLE OF AN EXPERIENCED SALE PERSON. JOHN WAS TOTALLY AMUSED BY SIGHT OF THE YOUNG KID IN HIS AGGRESSIVE SALE CAMPAIGN. JOHN KNEW THE EASTERN PART OF HIS COUNTRY IS FAMOUS FOR LEMON TEA. IT IS REFRESHING WITH PEPPER AND DASH OF LEMON.

THE KID CONTINUED TO DISPLAY HIS SELLING SKILL. SIR, NO SUGAR, SIR. IT IS WITH HONEY, FRESH HONEY FROM VALLEY. JOHN HAD SEEN THE KID IN THE NEARBY TEA SHOP. BUT HE HAD NEVER EXPECTED HIM SO EARLY IN THE MORNING. SIR, I AM TOLD, YOU ARE GOING TO STOP THE WATER FROM FLOWING DOWN THE RIVER, THE BOY CONTINUED. LOT OF PEOPLE WILL BE COMING TO WORK HERE. MY PAPA WAS TELLING ME YESTERDAY TO GO TO VALLEY AND PURCHASE BOTTLES OF HONEY. HE HAS PROMISED ME TO PURCHASE A NICE WOOLEN SWEATER AS OUR BUSINESS IMPROVES. HE SAYS I MAY NOT HAVE TO CUT THE RED STONE IN FUTURE. THE BOY CONTINUED TO SPEAK WITHOUT BREAK AND WITHOUT WAITING JOHN TO ANSWER. JOHN SMILED AS HE STARTED SIPPING THE TEA, IT WAS SWEET AND TANGY.

THE BOY CONTINUED, WHEN ALL YOUR PEOPLE WILL COME, SIR? WHEN THE WORK WILL START? JOHN ENJOYED THE INQUISITIVENESS OF THE BOY. HE DID NOT SAY ANYTHING. HE WANTED TO THAT EAGERNESS STAY ALIVE. HE JUST PUT HIS AROUND THE SHOULDER IN CONVEY OF AN ASSURANCE AND COMFORT. SOMETIMES THIS ASSURANCE WORKS WONDER IN OUR LIFE. ASSURANCE MAY NOT TURN INTO THE TRUTH, BUT IT CONSOLES YOU, IT CAJOLES YOU AND COMFORTS YOU AND DISTRACTS YOU FROM MISERY OF THE MOMENT. WE ALL LONG AND LOVE TO CONVERT THAT ASSURANCE INTO TRUTH. BUT IT DOES NOT HAPPEN ALWAYS. SOMETIMES WHEN IT HAPPENS ALSO WE DO NOT KNOW. IT COMES AND GOES LIKE THE FIRST MOON AFTER THE NEW MOON DAY. WE ALL LIVE WITH THAT ASSURANCE WITH A HOPE THAT IT WILL TURN INTO REALITY. THERE IS A CHARM IN THAT WAITING; THERE IS A PLEASURE IN THAT WAITING. ONLY THE EXPERIENCED UNDERSTANDS THAT. IT IS LIKE THE LIFE OF THE SWALLOW BIRD WHICH STANDING IN KNEE DEEP WATER WAITS FOR THOSE CLOUDS IN THE SKY TO CRY FOR IT. NO REGRET, IF IT DOES NOT COME AND DOES NOT DROP, BUT IT WAITS FOR THAT ASSURANCE TURNING INTO REALITY.

THE BOY HAS LEFT WITH EMPTY TUMBLER. JOHN IS STILL WONDERING ABOUT THE CORNS IN THE HAND OF YOUNG BOY. IT MUST HAVE HAPPENED BECAUSE OF CONTINUOUS HOLDING OF SOMETHING HARD WHICH HAS LEFT ITS MARK IN THE TENDER HAND. WHAT IT COULD BE? IS THE BOY ALSO INVOLVED IN SOME STRENUOUS LABOURS OTHER THAN SELLING TEA?

FOR A MOMENT JOHN DIVERTED HIS ATTENTION TO THE ONE DAY OLD LOCAL DAILY. IT REACHES ONE DAY LATE. HE WENT THROUGH THE HEAD LINES. NOTHING COULD ATTRACT HIS ATTENTION. HE COULD NOT CONCENTRATE EITHER. IT IS SLOWLY AND SURELY TURNING OUT TO BE BRIGHT SUNNY DAY. HE HAS TO MAKE A SURVEY OF THE LOCALITY AND CHECK THE BILL OF QUANTITY AVAILABLE IN THE TENDER. HE HAS ALSO TO MAKE A MATERIAL SURVEY. HE HAS ALREADY COLLECTED A FAIR IDEA OF THE LOCALITY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE RIVER. HE PLANNED TO HAVE A LATE BATH SOMETIMES IN AFTERNOON AFTER FINISHING SOME PORTION OF SURVEY.

HE STARTED MOVING IN THE ROAD LEADING TOWARDS HILL. IT IS A ROAD FULL OF DITCHES AND RED DUSTS. MOVEMENTS OF LATERITE STONE LOADED TRUCKS HAVE MADE THE MATTER FURTHER WORSE. THE LATERITE QUARRY IS NEARBY. STONES ARE BEING CUT FOR CONSTRUCTION PURPOSE. IT IS EASY TO CUT LATERITE STONE, ONLY THE DRESSING REQUIRES SOME SKILL, IT REQUIRES PATIENCE ALSO.

IT IS DUST OF LATERITE STONES, REDDISH WITH ITS PUNGENT ORDURE .JOHN STARTED SNEEZING HEAVILY. IT WAS CONTINUOUS SNEEZING WHICH MAKES EYES SEMI CLOSED AND WITH THAT EVERYTHING LOOKS LITTLE HAZY. SOMEBODY IS MOVING TOWARDS HIM, A SMALL LITTLE FIGURE, BODY COVERED WITH RED DUSTS .NOSE AND MOUTH COVERED WITH A PIECE OF CLOTH. HELLO SIR, HE GREETED JOHN. DO YOU REQUIRE LATERITE STONE FOR YOUR CONSTRUCTION WORK? GOOD STONES AVAILABLE HERE . COME SIR, I WILL TAKE YOU TO MANAGER. THE TEA BOY OF THE MORNING IN HIS NEW ROLE. SAME ENTHUSIASM. SAME INQUISITIVENESS, THE ACUMEN OF EXPERIENCED ALL APPARENT. THE GLAZE OF AN UNCUT DIAMOND, REQUIRES LITTLE POLISHING. IT IS JUST LIKE THAT JASMINE OF JUNGLE, EMITTING ITS FLAVOUR IN UNKNOWN, UNSUNG AND UNNOTICED. NOBODY WILL NOTICE THAT. NOBODY WILL DISCOVER THAT UNKNOWN DIAMOND. NOBODY WILL GIVE A POLISH TO THAT. IT HAS COME UNKNOWN AND UNNOTICED AND GO AWAY UNNOTICED AND UNKNOWN. TALENT WILL GET BURIED IN THAT UNKNOWN CORNER OF THE WORLD. WHO WILL NOTICE THAT? WHO HAS KEPT A COUNT OF THOSE UNKNOWN TALENTS?

IT IS MANIFESTATION OF INEQUALITY. WHO HAS CREATED THAT? WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THAT? TALENT IS EVERYWHERE. SEARCH FOR IT YOU WILL GET THAT. JOHN AGAIN PUT THAT HAND OF ASSURANCE ON THE BOY BACK. HE WANTED TO TELL SOMETHING, BUT HE WANTED THAT INQUISITIVENESS TO GROW BIGGER AND BETTER. IS THERE A WAY OUT? JOHN MOVED AWAY FROM THE LATERITE QUARRY.

RED DUSTS BEHIND HIM. RED DUST OF LATERITE STONE. JOHN STARTED SNEEZING AGAIN. HE SEES HANDS WITH CHISEL DRESSING THAT LATERITE. TINY AND UNCONTROLLED HANDS WITH HAMMER IN THE LEFT ONE. THE HAND IS YET TO MASTER THAT STROKE OF HAMMER WHICH FALLS ON HEAD OF CHISEL. SOMETIMES IT HITS PARTIALLY THOSE TINY MUSCLES GRIPPING AROUND THE CHISEL. THE FACE GRIMACES IN PAINS. BUT THE HANDS NEVER STOP. IT MOVES MECHANICALLY TILL IT FEELS THE PAIN OF FRICTION WHEN GRIP SLIPS ON THE CHISEL. HEAT COMING OUT OF THAT FRICTION CREATES CORNS WITH THICK SKIN IN THOSE TINY HANDS. BUT THE WORKS CONTINUE. THE HAND SHIVERS IN PAIN. IT CRIES IN PAIN. IN THE MISTY EYES OF REMEMBRANCE IT REMEMBERS THE HANDS OF THAT LOVE PRAYING SOMEWHERE FOR HIS WELFARE WITH FOLDED PALMS FULL OF PARIJATS.

PARIJAT-5

IT IS BARREN AND DRY. THE MONSOON HAS LEFT. WINTER HAS JUST PEEPED IN. THE EARLY WINTER LANDSCAPE NEVER DRAWS A SUCH GLOOMY PICTURE. MILES AND MILES OF VAST BARREN LANDS WITH NO SIGN OF VEGETATIONS. IT HAS NOT RAINED FOR SECOND CONSECUTIVE YEARS. JOHN KNEW HIS COUNTRY IS FULL OF EXTREMES. IT IS PROBLEM OF PLENTY AND AT THE SAME TIME HAS PROBLEM OF SCARCITY. THE PROBLEM COULD BE SORTED OUT IF WE HAVE A WILL TO SOLVE IT. BUT WHO BOTHERS? PASS THE DAY. IT IS NOT MY PROBLEM. WHY TO BOTHER?

BUT SOMETIMES WISER COUNSEL DOES PREVAIL. FROM THAT ARROGANT AND INTELLECTUALS REALM OF POWER TO SAY “NO” A DECISION HAS FLOWN IN .THE UPSTREAM WATER HAS TO BE STOPPED; A BY-PASS WILL BE CREATED TO DIVERT MORE WATER TO THE SMALL HILLY RIVER FLOWING IN A GORGE. A BARRAGE HAS TO BE CONSTRUCTED CONNECTING TWO SMALL HILLOCKS; WATER RESERVOIR WILL BE CREATED TO DIVERT THE WATER TO THE BARREN LAND. EVERYTHING HAS TO BE DONE BEFORE THE ONSET OF NEXT MONSOON. JOHN KNEW THE HIMALAYAN TASK AHEAD OF HIM. BUT HE LOVES CHALLENGES. HE IS AWARE THAT NOTHING HAS BECOME SMOOTH IN HIS PROFESSIONAL CAREER. PROBLEMS AND HINDRANCES, ALL UNEXPECTED, ALL UNIMAGINABLE HAVE ALWAYS CROPPED UP. THEY HAVE LEFT THEIR SCARES JOHN’S MIND. BUT HE WAS NEVER FOUND WANTING. HIS TECHNICAL JUDGMENTS HAVE NEVER BETRAYED HIM. IN THE LAST HE HAS ALWAYS BEEN WINNER. IN THE END IT IS HE WHO SMILES.

JOHN HAS COME TO HIS NEW SHELTER AFTER THAT BUS JOURNEY OF NIGHT. HE IS ALREADY ONE DAY OLD IN THAT SHELTER. IT IS AN USUAL SHELTER IN CONSTRUCTION SITE. WALLS ARE CONSTRUCTED IN SEMI BURNT BRICKS AND MUD MORTARS; ROOF IS COVERED WITH OLD GALVANIZED METALLIC SHEETS WITH STRAWS OF PADDY OVER IT. STRAWS ARE HELPFUL MANY WAYS. IT PROTECTS AGAINST HEAT AND COLD, ALSO PREVENTS RAINDROPS FALLING INSIDE FROM THE NAIL HOLES OF METALLIC SHEETS.

JOHN IS OBSERVING HIS BULKINESS STANDING IN FRONT OF LARGE SIZED MIRROR INSIDE THE ROOM. THE MIRROR REFLECTS IMAGE OF EACH INCOMER TO THE ROOM. IT IS A STRANGE THING TO FIND IN CONSTRUCTION SITE SHELTER. ON ENQUIRY HE WAS TOLD THAT COMPANY HAS PURCHASED ALL THE HOUSEHOLDS OF THE SHELTER IN A BULK AUCTION. HIS WAIST LINE HAS INCREASED, THE EXTRAS OF HIS SAGGING BELLY GIVES AN UNCOMFORTABLE LOOK. SAGGING CHIN WITH RECEDING HAIR LINES WITH MIXES OF THE WHITES. IT IS ALL ODD. SIGN OF ADVANCED AGE. HE HAS GROWN OLD WITHOUT REALIZING THAT. EVERYTHING LOOKS SO RECENT AND SO FRESH. BUT TIME HAS TICKLED DOWN LEAVING ITS MARK IN HIS PHYSICAL LOOK.

JOHN MOVED AWAY FROM THE MIRROR, SAT DOWN TO DRAW THE WORK SCHEDULE. THERE IS A NEW SURGE IN HIS MIND, A NEW ZEAL, AND ZEAL OF A YOUNG, TO EXCEL AND SUCCEED. HE STILL POSSESSES FIRE IN HIS BELLY; ENTHUSIASM, DETERMINATION OF YOUNG MIND AND ACUMEN OF EXPERIENCED TO CONQUER THAT UNCONQUERED. THE OLD AND TIRED LOOK IS DECEPTIVE FOR VERY FEW HAS SEEN AND REALIZED THAT FIRE, URGE AND DESIRE TO SUCCEED. JOHN WENT THROUGH SCOPE OF WORK, CAME ACROSS REHABILITATIONS MEASURES TO BE ADOPTED. EXPANDING WATER IN THE WATER RESERVOIR WILL DISPLACE MANY HOUSES WITH THAT DESTITUTE HOUSE FOR THE OLDS. THOSE ARE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF RIVER. JOHN THOUGHT OF MAKING VISIT TO THAT VILLAGE. THERE IS NO BOAT MAN TO OAR THE BOAT ACROSS THE RIVER. JOHN WANTED TO VENTURE THAT OLD EXPERIENCE. ROWING OF BOAT ALL ALONE.

THE SUN HAS JUST STARTED ITS WEST WARD JOURNEY. SLIGHTLY INCLINED SUNRAYS ARE WARM AND BRING COMFORT IN A WINTER DAY. JOHN CAME TO RIVER BANK. HIGH TIDE HAS COVERED A VAST STRETCH OF RIVER BANK. HE HAS TO WALK IN THE SALLOW WATER TILL HE REACHES NEAR THE BOAT. BECAUSE OF HIGH TIDE COVERAGE THE BOAT LOOKS AS IF IT IS IN THE MIDDLE OF RIVER. JOHN FOLDED HIS PANT AND WALKED DOWN TOWARDS BOAT. HIS FEET ARE GOING DOWN IN SOFT AND LOAMY SAND. IT MAKES SOUND AS HE PULLS OUT HIS FOOT, SAND RUSHES IN TO COVER THAT IMPRESSION. THAT IMPRESSION NEVER LASTS. IT GETS COVERED OF IN NO TIME LIKE THE PAST MEMORY OF WEDDING GIRL WAITING FOR THE ARRIVAL OF HIS NEW MAN. MEMORIES GET BURIED FOR HER LIKE THOSE FOOT IMPRESSIONS IN SUBMERGED SAND. SOME MEMORY REMAINS AS THE REMINISCENT OF THAT PAST. THOSE ARE WRITTEN IN INDELIBLE INK.

JOHN CROSSED THE RIVER, CAME TO THE SLEEPY VILLAGE ON OTHER SIDE OF BANK. IT IS DEEPAVALI DAY. THE FESTIVAL OF LIGHT. AS THE EVENING APPROACHES SOUND OF CRACKERS WILL FILL THE AIR. EACH HOUSE WILL BE DECORATED IN OIL LAMPS EMITTING LIGHT OF TRUTH, HAPPINESS AND PROSPERITY. MAY BE THIS IS LAST DEEPAVALI FOR THE VILLAGE. SOON IT WILL BE PART OF MEMORY WITH ITS STORY OF LOVE, BETRAYAL, ANGER, HATRED, MISERY, SMILE AND HAPPINESS. SOON IT WILL BE ENGULFED IN SWELLING WATER OF RESERVOIR. NO REGRET, IT WILL BE PART OF PAST FOR A CAUSE. IT WILL BE LIKE THAT IMPRESSION OF FOOT IN SUBMERGED SAND ENGULFED IN THE ANTICIPATED PROSPERITY OF NEW ERA WHEN THE EACH BARREN LANDS WILL SMILE WITH GOLDEN MUSTARD FLOWER OF WINTER.

JOHN CAME TO THAT DESTITUTE HOUSE OF OLD. SOME ARE ALONE. SOME LUCKIER ARE WITH THEIR SPOUSES TO SHARE THAT BITTER AND YET SWEET PAST. FORGETTABLE, YET UNFORGETTABLE. BUT THEY ALL LAUGH TOGETHER IN THAT COMMON HALL. THEY HAVE LOST THEIR TOUCH WITH OUTSIDE, NOBODY ENQUIRES ABOUT THEM. NOBODY EVER BOTHERS TO PEEP IN. THEIR FAMILIES HAVE FORGOTTEN THEM. BUT STILL THEY LIVE AND SMILE IN ANTICIPATION OF A TOMORROW, A BETTER TOMORROW WHEN SOMEBODY WILL REMEMBER THEM. THE OLD MODEL BLACK TELEPHONE HAS GATHERED DUST. IT HAS NOT RUNG SINCE LONG. STILL THEY LOOK TO IT IN THUMPING HEART AS THEY PASS BY IT. THEY MUTTER AND PLEAD, PLEASE, PLEASE RING FOR ME. IT NEVER RINGS. THUMPING HEART OF ANTICIPATION SLOWS DOWN; SOMETHING FROM INSIDE THAT OLD HAGGARD BODY COMES OUT IN FORM OF A DEEP BREATH OF DESPERATIONS. THEY HAVE RECOGNIZED THAT DESPERATIONS IN EACH OTHER FACES, THEY HAVE REALIZED THAT AS IT IS SO COMMON TO THEM. BUT IT REMAINS UNTOLD.

JOHN VISIT TO THEM WAS LIKE THE TOUCH OF SANDAL IN HOT AND PRICKLY AFTERNOON OF SUMMER. THEY HAVE SURROUNDED HIM AND BLESSED HIM IN HEARTS OF DIVINITY AS IF HE IS NEAR AND DEAR TO THEM. THEY HAVE LISTENED TO HIM IN RAPT ATTENTION OF A CHILD LISTENING FROM GRAND MAMA THE STORY OF BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS ELOPING WITH HER DREAM MAN, WHEN JOHN DESCRIBED THEM THE PLAN OF RESERVOIR AND CULTIVATION OF BARREN LANDS. THEY HAVE AGAIN BLESSED HIM AMASS WHEN JOHN LEFT THEM IN APPROACH OF EVENING. THEY HAVE LOOKED TO HIM IN HEAVY HEART AT THE TIME OF DEPARTURE. AGAIN THE SOUND OF UNTOLD BUT DESPERATE DEEP BREATHS HAVE FILLED THE ATMOSPHERE.

JOHN WALKED DOWN IN THE VILLAGE ROAD AS IF HE IS MOVING IN THE PAST. IT IS NOSTALGIC. IT REMINDS HIM OF HIS YOUTH. OLD TREES IN THE SIDE OF ROAD REMINDS HIM THAT “TREE OF WISHES” OF HIS VILLAGE, WHERE EVERY YOUNG HEART WILL WRITE DOWN HIS OR HER WISHES IN THE DARK OF NIGHT AND PRAY SECRETLY FOR THAT WISHES TO BE FULFILLED. JOHN HAS REACHED THE RIVER BANK. FOR A MOMENT HE WISHED TO ROW THE BOAT UP STREAM. SOUND OF OARS BECOMES OSTENSIBLE ALONG WITH THE SOUND OF BOAT CUTTING AND SPLITTING THE HEART OF WATER STREAM. AN OLD SONG OF PAST RESOUNDED IN HIS MIND’S EYE; SOMEBODY IS SINGING IN THAT PAST WITH TOUCH OF AGONY IN REMEMBRANCE OF THAT REMINISCENT MEMORY. OH, MEMORY YOU ARE LIKE THAT UNKNOWN BREEZE OF RAINY NIGHT. YOU ARE LIKE THE LIVE FIRE BURIED UNDER HEAP OF ASHES. YOU ARE THE TEMPLE SURROUNDED BY DANCING ANGLES. YOU ARE LIKE THE CRESCENT MOON EMITTING SILVERY GLOSS. YOU ARE THE NAME WRITTEN IN CHARCOAL IN THE WALL OF AN OLD INN. OH, MEMORY, YOU ARE THE VILLAGE OF MY LOVE OF PAST. YOU ARE LIKE THE FRAGILE PAPER BOAT FLOATING IN THE DOWNSTREAM OF THE RIVER. OH MEMORY, HEY MEMORY, YOU ARE LIKE THAT BREATH OF MY MOST HUNTED AND YET LOVEABLE PAST.

IT IS SOUND OF CRACKERS EVERYWHERE. IT IS NIGHT OF DEEPAVALI. IN DARK SKY OF MOONLESS NIGHT, LIGHT OF CRACKERS CREATED FLOWERS OF THOUSAND LIGHTS. IN THE BANK OF RIVER HOUSES STARTED SMILING IN GLITTERS OF OIL LAMPS. THE DESTITUTE HOME FOR THE OLDS IS STILL DARK. NO SOUND OF CRACKERS EITHER. AGAIN JOHN FELT A SUDDEN RUSH URGE INSIDE HIM, URGING HIM, ATTRACTING HIM AND DRAGGING HIM TOWARDS DESTITUTE HOUSE. HE MUST GO. JOY OF A CHILD, JOY OF THAT ONE LEGGED DANCE IN LABOUR COLONY. HE HEARS SOUND OF SMILES ALL AROUND IN THAT FLOWING RIVER. SOUND OF GIGGLING MINI BITING JACOB’S EAR LOBE. TRIUMPHANT SOUND OF MARANDI’S DRUM AFTER THAT BONE CRUSHING SIXTEEN HOURS OF SUPER HUMAN EFFORT. IT IS BLISS. IT IS TRANQUILITY. IT IS HAPPINESS. HE MUST SHARE. HE SHOULD SHARE. HE STARTED ROWING FEVERISHLY TOWARDS THAT DESTITUTE HOUSE OF THE OLDS.

THE TERRACE OF DESTITUTE HOME BECAME ACTIVE. OIL LAMPS STARTED EMITTING BLESSINGS IN THAT DARK NIGHT. IT IS SMILE OF LAMPS, GOLDEN LAMPS LIKE THOSE OF PARIJATS SMILING IN FULL BLOOM.