Murmur of the Lonely Brook

by Debashis Dey

  “Where are you from?”

  “Kinnaur, sir.”

  “So you Kinnauris have gone beyond farming and cattle?” the architect said, smiling.

  Pravin saw the comment was friendly and he also smiled.

  “Okay, we start next week. Meanwhile, estimate the number of man-days required for this. All materials will reach the site by the day after tomorrow.”

  The architect dismissed them and Anil and Pravin moved off. Anil smiled at Pravin.

  “Congratulations. If you do well, he will keep you for all his projects.”

  “Thanks, Bhaiya. You have been a great help.”

  “It is all his wish,” said Anil, pointing upward.

  “I need another favor from you. Can you get me a place to stay, bhaiya?” Pravin asked.

  Anil was a bit surprised, as he knew Pravin was staying with Kishen.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Not at all. Kishen bhaiya is extremely good to me and Bhabi cooks very well. But it will be a burden to stay with them for a long time.”

  “Okay, I understand. I will see what I can do.”

  “Can I ask you something more? Is it okay if I ask for a leave next month? I need to go home for a few days.”

  “That should not be a problem,” Anil assured him.

  At home, Kishen’s wife made thekuas (cookies) out of gram flour, oil, and sugar. Pravin and Kishen sat with the crisp snacks and enjoyed their tea.

  “I am getting into permanent work at the site.”

  “That’s great news! Ramji is great. We must offer puja and celebrate!” Kishen exclaimed.

  Pravin smiled. He decided not to tell him about his decision to move. It could wait for now. He didn’t want to make this person sad who had stood by him during difficult times.

  “Did you inform your folks?”

  “I just got the confirmation today. I will certainly inform them.”

  “You must, as parents are like gods; they endure so much pain to bring up their children.”

  Pravin nodded; he always held his family above all things.

  At night, Pravin thought about his aau. He had never understood him and was not sure if Shevak would be happy. But he was sure that others would be happy. He was now content to be a complete man. He had a good job to support the family and a wife to lend a helping hand. He couldn’t ask for more. He knew that his other plans of having a Jeep and a shop would also happen over a period of time. Overall, he felt happy to make a visit and announce his achievements. It was not that he felt homesick. Yes, he missed the family, pancakes, the valley, the river, the peaks, and his friends. But no one in particular, not even Nisha. Marriage was part of becoming complete and he knew he had to comply with the custom. She was good company and supported his plans. She took care of him and did her part for the family. As long as the family was happy with her, he was happy.

  The only problem he foresaw was his brother Diwakar’s marriage. It would call for a division of land and the orchard as well as adding rooms. Land got divided among the sons and after so many generations and division, what was left on Shevak’s part was not sufficient for the family. This was an issue that bothered Pravin sometimes and being the eldest son, he knew it was up to him to find a way out. The only thing he could do was complement the family income with his effort. He felt more confident now and knew that the Devta was with him.

  In the morning, Kishen woke him early. Both took a shower and left for the temple with empty stomachs. They offered puja and had tea at the stall. Raju was delighted to hear the news. He touched Kishen’s feet and asked for his blessings.

  “I have heard so much about you.”

  “I know about you too. If Ramji (Lord Rama) is kind, you will surely be happy in life.” Kishen gave him prasad and they both left.

  At work, Pravin was full of enthusiasm. He felt a surge of energy and devoted his full attention to his new responsibilities. He went through the drawing once more and made calculations. He consulted Anil several times and arrived at his estimates. He also made a rough plan on how to proceed with the work. He felt happy with his planning.

  Pravin could not sleep Saturday night. Anil had yet to find a room for him. Kishen was snoring loudly inside. And he knew his wife would come. It was like the leopard visiting their village who once stole a calf and came every night after that. He waited in apprehension. Finally, she came but this time she did not force herself on him. She simply sat on the edge of the bed next to him. Pravin looked at her. She was fully dressed. In the faint light, he could only see her face. Pravin sat up and looked her straight in the face.

  “You know this is not right,” he said.

  She looked at him for some time. In the darkness he couldn’t make out if she was angry or sad.

  “What is right?” she said in a low but sharp tone. “I lost my father when I was six months old. Is that right? My uncle brought me up. And when I grew up, he molested me all along. Is that right?” She was breathing deeply. “And then he sold me to this old hog. Is that right?”

  Pravin saw she was sobbing. He felt bad. He sat up and took her hand. “Maybe this is your destiny. But Kishen Bhaiya is a nice man.”

  “A nice man is not enough to quench the fire within me.” She moved closer to him and held him in a tight embrace. “Am I asking too much from you?” She looked at Pravin with pleading eyes.

  Before he could reply, she pushed him down on the bed and was on top of him. Pravin tried not to respond but with her hair covering his face and her breasts pressing against him, he soon felt aroused. His young blood responded and once again, he surrendered to her aggressive moves.

  They made love once that night and then she lay beside him, holding on to him like a lover. Pravin did not have the feeling of guilt he had earlier. In the morning, he met Raju and they both went out to the garden and then out for dinner.

  The electrical work started on schedule and Pravin got fully involved. For the first few days, he laid out the plan, hired people, and finished the masonry work. He personally installed the master controls and the mains and delegated smaller work with careful detail. But on the third day, when the architect switched on a test circuit, the fuse blew with a bang!

  “What is this?” He shouted.

  Pravin was surprised. He had tested the mains quite a few times himself. The helper who did some of the wiring must have mixed up the cables.

  “I am sorry, sir.”

  “Sorry? There is no question of being sorry!” he exclaimed. “You cannot do a simple job properly!”

  Pravin kept quiet. The helper who made the mistake was his responsibility. He could see that the architect was upset.

  “Sir, there will be no more errors.”

  “Yes, you’re right. There will be no more errors, because I will never hire someone like you again, ever. It was my fault entrusting a job like this to an illiterate farmer. I don’t know how you ever got that certificate!”

  Pravin was quite upset with his comment but kept his anger in check. He picked up his bag and walked away. He could hear the architect still yelling at him.

  The news also reached Anil. Pravin met with him and explained what happened. “Everyone makes mistakes, bhaiya, but does that call for such abusiveness?”

  “Try to forget and don’t take it personally.”

  Pravin kept quiet. He was still fuming inside.

  “Do you want me to speak to him?”

  “Thanks, Anil bhaiya. But I would rather take a break and visit my folks.”

  He was in no mood to work for the architect.

  “Okay, but do meet with me when you get back.”

  Pravin nodded and left for the site office to collect his dues.

  At home, Kishen felt genuinely upset when he listened to Pravin’s story. He patted him and said, “Keep faith on Ramji and everything will be all right.”

  “I will leave for my village in a day or two.”

  “Maybe you should meet with the man and ask him for
one more chance.”

  “There is no point to that, bare bhaiya. I can take almost anything but not such insults.”

  “I agree,” Kishen nodded. He was feeling bad as Pravin was just settling down. But he knew such things happened.

  In the morning, Pravin washed all his clothes and packed his bag. He decided to buy a few things for home. He had money. The whole day he spent in the market. He purchased shawls for Nisha and Parvati, a jacket for Diwakar, and a scarf for Ria. He also picked up a packet of almonds and some chocolates. After that, he met Raju, gave him some money, and bid him good-bye.

  The next day he was ready before Kishen got up. Kishen’s wife made him tea. She packed him some thekuas and watched him pack his bag. “Let God be with you,” she said softly and went inside to call Kishen. Pravin touched Kishen’s feet. Kishen pulled him up and hugged him tightly.

  “Thanks for everything, Bare Bhaiya. You have done more for me than anyone.”

  “Take care and come back soon,” he said in a choked voice.

  Pravin picked up his bag and left. He would be late for the bus to Rampur.

  There was no direct bus from Solan to the village and he had to either change buses or take a shuttle from Rampur. Pravin took a corner seat and looked out the window. It was still early and the market was just waking up. A fruit vendor stacked dark green melons, guavas, and mangoes on a large plastic sheet. He cut a few melons in half and kept them on top, displaying the bright red insides. A rattling sound came from a metal shutter as a shopkeeper wound it up with a solid push. He then lit a few incense sticks and moved them in circles before placing them near the deity on the wall and folded his hands in prayer. A bare-chested priest with red and white marks on his forehead was doing his round of shops, sprinkling holy water on the goods and wares from a copper vessel, and collecting whatever he got in return. A bull roamed majestically and munched on fruits and vegetables offered to him by the vendors. A bull is always considered holy, as he is the companion of Lord Shiva. A couple of beggars slept peacefully on the pavement, curled up inside old torn blankets. It was too early for them to wake up. A few cycle vans with supplies of bread kept honking while pumping hard on the rubber horns and scaring the few pedestrians who came early to take advantage of buying fresh. A tea vendor roamed around with a large kettle of steaming tea in one hand and a stack of finely balanced glasses on the other. Stray dogs barked and chased the bull but from a safe distance.

  The bus started and soon was out of the city. Pravin felt the fresh rush of cool air on his face and saw the green fields, trees, and the mountains in the distance. He felt much better. He thought about his current state. If fate had played tricks on him, then fate had also brought him this far. He had not committed any crime or done anything bad to anyone. It must be a test by Devta. He remembered his Teté saying once that the strongest tree withstood many storms. He decided he would not mention anything at home and behave as if nothing had happened.

  He thought about the past month and all the people he had met. He thought of Kishen, Anil, Raju, and then he remembered Gangaram. He checked his purse and found his card still there. He decided to meet him at Rampur, provided he found the time.

  Rampur thrived on its market and supplied the whole of Kinnaur. All the traders and shop owners bought their goods from this market and there was a constant crowd of merchants, Jeeps, and buses. It was also the capital of the former Raja Saheb, Bir Bahadur. His son, the former chief minister, stayed there. In the late afternoon, Pravin got off the bus at Rampur. He had been there before during the annual fair when the locals brought in their handicrafts and wares for sale. He checked at the bus stand, but all the buses had left that morning. He decided to have tea and look around the market. As usual, the market was crowded with people buying vegetables, utensils, nuts, garments, and groceries. As he pushed through the crowds and went farther into the marketplace, he saw a sign that announced: GANGARAM ELECTRICALS.

  He went inside. Gangaram was seated at the counter and was pleasantly surprised to see Pravin. He came out and greeted him.

  “Welcome to Rampur. When did you arrive?”

  “A few minutes ago, sir.”

  “Please don’t call me sir. I am an ordinary man. You can call me Ganga Bhaiya. But tell me first, did you have lunch?”

  “No, but it’s okay, I will be on my way soon.”

  Gangaram called to a man in the opposite shop and ordered tea and samosa for Pravin.

  “Where are you off to? Why not stay for a day and then leave?”

  “I am off to my village. I lost my job at Solan, but I will go back soon.”

  Gangaram listened to what happened in Solan and thought for a while. “Whatever happens happens for the best. I have better plans for you.”

  Pravin wondered what he had in mind.

  “You see this shop, my friend? Apart from this, I have acres of land that can give me more money, but only if I have the time. I have no one except my mother at home. I want you to manage this shop.”

  He paused and looked at Pravin, who did not show any reaction. He kept silent.

  “I will give you a decent salary. More than that, you can accept all the electrical work that comes here and keep all the profits. On an average we get three to four inquiries a day, from fixing a switch to complete wiring.” Gangaram paused again and looked at Pravin, expecting an answer. He was not yet sure if Pravin was interested.

  “I always wanted to have my own shop. And this is close to that.” Pravin smiled.

  Gangaram was overjoyed, as this meant a big relief for him. At heart, he was a farmer and he had opened this shop only on his friends’ advice.

  “I will be back from my village in a week or ten days time,” said Pravin.

  “No problem. When you come back, you can stay in my house. I have an extra room. It’s small, but it will be okay for you.”

  “Can I make one request of you? Is it okay if I call Raju to come here? He can be my assistant and I will train him.”

  “As you please. From now on, this is your shop and your business.” Ganga smiled.

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” said Pravin.

  “Please don’t. We are friends and we are both helping each other.”

  Pravin left the shop in high spirits. He thanked Devta and decided to offer puja at the village. He went to the stand to look for a shuttle. He met Jay Singh and his Jeep from Sangla. Jay Singh was the brother of Rajdev, who had made a fortune selling illegal diesel fuel, which he procured from the power company’s drivers. There was no service station around and his business flourished. The family was well off and the car was mainly used for servicing the tourists. Occasionally, they also came to pick up goods and supplies for the traders. Jay Singh knew Pravin and greeted him with a smile.

  “Do you have space for me?”

  “Sure. There are two other passengers, both men, and I don’t think they will object. But you need to wait until the goods are loaded.”

  “I will, but join me for tea.”

  They both had tea while the porters loaded the sacks and boxes. The two men came in and Jay Singh told them that Pravin was an old friend and wanted a lift. They nodded and Pravin sat on the front next to Jay Singh.

  Soon the Jeep left Rampur and hit the uphill road. The road cut across a hill while another ran parallel. Winter was approaching and the fields on both sides of the road wore a desolate look. Crops had been cut and with the soil exposed, the plains reflected shades of brown and gray. With no crops, the villagers left the cattle to graze freely and they searched desperately for the last trace of green. Flocks of birds, mostly pigeons, browsed for leftover grains. Huge bundles of hay and grass lay stacked in places waiting to be hung on roofs or in trees. Only the pines retained their greens while the others stood with their last few leaves fluttering in the breeze. The Sutlej had lost much of its volume and ran in a slim and slender note. The bed of rocks and gravel were now exposed and soaked up the sun.

  Pravin kne
w there was a lot of work at home too. In a month, the family would shift to their winter home, which was a thousand feet down the mountain and much warmer. The cattle would move too. But before that, grass and hay needed to be cut and brought down to feed them. And then there was the pruning of the orchards, collection of firewood, bringing it down, cutting it, and storing it to keep it dry. The bukhari burned almost all day and night during severe cold. Apart from these things, the buckwheat had to be ground, the potatoes harvested and stored, vegetables dried, and much more. He knew this was routine work every year and this year, Nisha was there to help too. If Ganga permitted it, he could return again next month and help them. But he was sure he would miss his village in winter. The snow-covered valley, the fishing in shallow waters, the long gossip sessions, the dry meat preparation, and all that came with the white season.

  The car was close to Karcham when Jay Singh made a halt by the side of the river. He lit a bidi and pointed to the rocky face of the opposite hill. He turned back and spoke to the occupants.

  “This is the place I told you about. Look above and you will see a long piece of rock cut straight on the sides, but it is fixed. Legend says the Pandavas worked at night and for some reason they couldn’t finish the work.”

  Everyone got down from the Jeep and saw the huge pillar-like rock protruding near the top. It was as if a giant cutter had been miraculously carried to the top by someone and that someone had tried to cut a long slab that lay unfinished. One of the passengers, who looked out of place, took out a camera and shot images from many angles. He was awestruck at the sheer size of the rock, the perfect cut and height of the location.

  Pravin looked at the hills and the ravines. This was the land of the Pandavas. Though the myths said they stayed here for a year in disguise and appeared only during the night, many still believed they were the true ancestors. In his childhood, teté (Grandpa) treated him with stories from the great epic. And even though he repeated many of them several times, Pravin never felt bored. He knew them by heart and loved to see himself as the middle pandava Arjuna while he saw the two younger brothers in Diwakar. He remembered childhood days when he roamed the hillsides with a bow and arrow and only teté as the solitary and obedient subject in his kingdom.