A Bend in the River of Life

by Budh Aditya Roy

  Rajani sent a message to Amit to that effect. Words came shortly from him that contrary to his prior belief, returning to Dacca was ruled out forever. Environment there was not conducive to minority communities. Waves of people were still crossing over to India seeking safety of life and livelihood. Besides, the family properties in Birpur were looted and damaged beyond repair. Buying a new property in Dacca was fraught with grave risk and was ill-advised. Under the circumstances, the visit that was meant to be purely temporary now appeared to be for good. So life had to start from the scratch. And that was the worry of Rajani right from the beginning. She was not prepared for this predicament. In a nervous hurry she brought all she could, enough clothing for everyone and articles of everyday use. Everything else was left behind. The landed gentry were reduced to landless nomads. Yet life never gives up. It rises from the ashes and seeks and finds solutions at a graduated scale. It tends to find normalcy even in exile. That was how the River of Life was woven with uncanny craftsmanship.

  Sheila came and spent a week with Rajani and the clan. Her family moved to one of the eastern suburbs of Calcutta for the time being. She was also not happy with her plight. But given the circumstances what else could be expected? Thanks God that everyone in the extended family was still alive! Sheila’s visit brought a little diversion to Devika and Rana. Not that they had any complaints as such. But with all the uncertainties around, life was getting a little strenuous. Community living was becoming a little crammed. Sheila had a pleasant but strong personality which could make her the leader of the pack easily. From the moment she arrived she took control of the situation. She would go out with Devika and Rana either for shopping or to see a long-lost friend or simply to stroll around the crowded streets. She made it feel like vacation.

  Soon there was a pleasant retreat for Rajani, Devika and Rana. Rajani’s old parents and two sisters also migrated safely and settled down not very far from Sheila’s residence. Rajani’s sisters landed up jobs with the State Government. Despite being uprooted from their hearth and home they were comfortable and happy. Fortunately, there are always some people in the River of Life who are never unhappy even under most difficult circumstances. They would find ways to keep themselves happy as if to teach others around them by their own examples not to give up hope and not to stop trying.

  Once in a while, Rajani would spend a few days with her parents along with Devika and Rana. Those were the happy days for Rana in exile. Rajani’s parents were remarkable. At that time Rajani’s father, Saroj was in the late nineties and her mother, Nandini in her early eighties. Considering his age Saroj was always bed-ridden, but fully alert. He knew perfectly well who Rana was. He would always exchange a few words with him or even make a little fun. However, it was with Nandini that Rana used to have a thriving time. Nandini would spend a lot of time talking to Rana. Rajani was very strict about his eating habits. But Nandini would always put away some home made desserts and cookies for him. She would give him the cookies behind Rajani’s back and whisper, “Eat them quickly before your grandma comes.” In the evening they would take a stroll in a huge park near by with a man-made lake in the middle and hillocks on the sides. On the hillocks Rana used to play hide-and-seek with Devika. There was a great variety of ducks and storks in the lake. They used to feed the ducks and love watching the storks catching fish with their long beaks. These outings were welcome diversions for little Rana. Away from the din and bustle of the city and worries and anxieties of unsettled living, these visits were refreshing.

  Notwithstanding those diversions, time was floating away not exactly the way Amit and Rajani would have liked. More than anything else, the most serious casualty of the traumatic development of the past year was the formal good education for Rana. Home made education was acceptable in the absence of nothing, but not nearly enough. Even in exile a comfortable home was a necessity. House-hunting was going on for sometime, but without success. Finally, with the help of a business friend Sumit got a house at the north-western suburbs of Calcutta on the other side of the River Ganges. Rajani liked the house and she had the final word. Only one hitch was that the house would be ready for occupancy in about three months time. However, for the homeless nomads there was no other choice. Over ten million people were displaced on account of partition. Calcutta was not ready for that huge influx of new residents.

  In the mean time, the nation dealt with another blow of historic proportions. It was January 1948. Rana became four years old. The family was anxiously waiting to relocate to the new house. However, at the end of the month tragedy struck India out of nowhere. The father of the newborn nation, Mahatma Gandhi was assassinated by a gunman at a prayer meeting in New Delhi. The country was in mourning. The violent death of a non-violent man stirred the soul of the nation. For more than four decades he led the Freedom Movement against the British Raj, suffering many years in incarceration in the process. The price for achieving that freedom was paid in blood by being killed brutally at the hands of a fellow countryman! Now at that critical juncture of its existence, the newly independent nation would be sadly devoid of the fountain of wisdom. Prime Minister Nehru addressed the nation in mourning. Sitting on the lap of Devika, Rana heard his husky voice cracking in emotion. Once again, Earl Mountbatten rose to the occasion. Standing by Premier Nehru as a tower of strength, he gave comfort and solace to the grieving and mourning nation.

  Soon the family moved to the new house in Rampur by the western bank of the River Ganges just opposite the northern suburbs of Calcutta. Until recently, it was a princely town owned by the Raja of Rampur. The aristocracy and the progressive rule of the successive Rajas showed up everywhere in that town. The most conspicuous presence in Rampur was the stately palace of the Raja of Rampur. It was sparkling white like pearls. For his three sons there were three smaller palaces. The most ubiquitous presence in Rampur was the River Ganges, about a mile wide along the stretch of the town. On the bank of the river was the imposing Public Library. About half-a-mile south of the library were the Government School and College, next to each other.

  At Rampur, Rana was admitted to a small private school. At long last, formal education began for him, though not exactly the way Amit and Rajani would have liked. But in exile the choices were always limited. The school was about ten minutes walk, but for little Rana it could take a few extra minutes depending on the myriad distractions on the way. The short walk to the school through the three princely estates was a sheer pleasure. The entire way was embellished with trees, plants and flowers on both sides. Sometimes, the walk could be too lonely in the morning. However, the solitary patch would be frequently broken by the chirping and whistling birds capering flippantly among the heavily wooded landscape. Especially, in the spring and early summer the air would often be filled with the enchanting melody of cuckoo, a rarely visible bird made famous by the English poet Wordsworth. Rana heard that cuckoo was a very ugly bird. However, in his little mind he could not figure out how such an ugly bird could generate that delightful, soul stirring melody. Despite his many inquisitive efforts to spot a cuckoo, he came up with nothing.

  To Rana, the great attraction for Rampur was the River Ganges which was just a few blocks away from their house. They could even see the river from the roof of their house. The view of the River from any point in Rampur was breathtaking. However, apart from the view, the din and bustle around the river was what was attractive to Rana. The spiritually minded people taking a dip while chanting verses from their scripture; the ferry transporting across hundreds of people; fishermen displaying their fresh catches of the day; barges carrying fresh fruits and vegetables; and the big dredgers dredging the silts at the bottom of the river were just a few of the many activities surrounding the river that used to give immense pleasure to little Rana.

  Things were going remarkably well for Devika. The womenfolk in the neighborhood became fond of her because of her easy, outgoing and helpful nature. However, she was not sent back to school though she was a good st
udent in her own rights and completed Junior High School before the exodus. Normally, during those days, the girls were given in marriage at a pretty young age. The would-be in-laws used to value cooking, house-keeping, knitting, embroidery and things of that sort. So she was busy learning those skills from Rajani and Anjali.

  To Rana’s delight, summer, followed by monsoon, brought an astonishing variety of sweet scented white flowers like king of fragrance, chamomiles, camellia, mogra, henna, night queen and jasmine. Before exile when he used to go to the garden of their house with Rajani and Devika to gather flowers, he was too young to follow their names. Now, the four year old Rana started learning the names of the flowers from his school teacher. Every morning, while making his way to the school through the princely estates, Rana would pick up some flowers for his teacher and the teacher would tell him their names. Mindful of the fact that Rajani would be very happy to have the flowers at her prayer, during his summer vacation little Rana made it a part of his morning ritual to go and pick up the flowers dropped on the dewy grass or the sidewalks for offerings at Rajani’s prayer. Impressed with Rana’s sense of propriety at such a young age, Rajani said that the trying circumstances of the exile propelled Rana to grow up faster than his age.

  At the departure of the monsoon appeared autumn with its string of religious festivals. That year the people were prepared to put behind the tragedies and in the mood to celebrate the festivals in the right spirits. The festivities were over-shadowed by the turmoil of the partition in the previous two years. So, for the first time in his life Rana enjoyed the festivals thoroughly. Especially, on the evening of Diwali or Festival of Lights he was delighted to see the fireworks from the cosy comfort of Devika’s protective wings, for he himself was scared to death to go anywhere near them.

  Close on the heels of the festivals the school opened for the last few weeks before the annual exams. The exams began and ended in a week. That was the first serious learning test in Rana’s life. However, he fared well and did not disappoint anyone. Then the school closed for a month long winter vacation that spanned the Christmas and New Year Holidays. That was the best part of the year. The bounties of nature manifested in many ways. The markets were full of winter fruits and vegetables. The supply of fish and a wide variety of birds were in abundance for sumptuous feasts. That was the only time in the year when the delicious juice of dates was available in plenty. The date juice was an important ingredient for a delectable rice pudding and various other delicious desserts that Rajani used to cook for Rana.

  Kamala came along with her one year old daughter Kanika to enjoy winter vacation with her mother Rajani. Rana did not have a happy memory of his first encounter with Kamala when at the onset of exodus she and her husband Gautam came to their Dacca residence to bring Devika to the safety of Calcutta. But this time around Kamala won his heart by her affectionate nature. Kanika was like a walkie-talkie doll. She struck an instant accord with Rana and would be exceptionally happy in his company.

  In the New Year Rana became five. School opened as usual. The River of Life was flowing unruffled. After a couple of years of turbulence it was flowing like a running brook after monsoon. That was how the River of Life was designed; a period of calm before and after the storm; a period of creativity after death and destruction. Spring came cheerfully with the sweet melody of cuckoo. Flowers of many kinds and colors blossomed to lend visual pleasure to the landscape. Summer vacation came and went rather unceremoniously. However, as the school opened, news came about the demise of Rajani’s father Saroj. It was a natural death and was not unexpected. He lived a full life and passed away just short of a century.

  That was the first time Rana was confronted with death in the extended family. He went to the memorial service with Rajani and Devika. Though he always felt comfortable with Nandini, this time he was at a loss as to what to say or do now that she was mourning the loss of her husband. But Nandini greeted him as affectionately as ever to put him at ease and made him sit next to her as she always used to. She held his hands and kept talking to him while wiping her tears at intervals. A remarkable woman Nandini, who was calm and composed as ever, quietly grieving the loss of her husband of over seventy years. It was true that Saroj died at a ripe old age, yet it makes a sea of difference when the nearest and dearest one is not there one moment for the other. Seventy years of love, affection, fellow feelings and mutual respect was well-nigh impossible to obliterate in another seventy years. There was nothing in her life without her husband. The two together reared up the family, coped with the tragedies and helped others keep their sanity. Like millions of unsung heroes from the dawn of civilization simple people like Saroj and Nandini were the bedrocks of the River of Life.

  Besides Nandini, the two others who were grief-stricken most were Sarojini and Padmini, her two hapless daughters and younger sisters of Rajani. The two of them were woven together in the thread of life by common tragedy. Both of them lost their husbands within a year of their wedding even before they were in their teens. As was the custom those days, they were not married again. The widows could not re-marry after all! They lived together and grew up under their parents’ loving eyes ever since. Saroj and Nandini brought them up, gave them better education as if they had never been married before. They prepared their two unfortunate daughters to look at life squarely and make their livings the right way. So together, the two sisters were mourning the demise of their revered father.

  The River of Life flows on incessantly, no matter what. The only constant in the River of Life is the flow for flow connotes change and change is the sign of life. So the only constant in life is change. The moment flow stops, the River of Life will decay and die in the sands of time. Life is a flow of events. No sooner the events cease to occur than slowly but surely death creeps in.

  A few months down the road, as the autumn was approaching and the festivals were round the corner, death struck the family again. This time the tragedy was sudden and beyond anyone’s imagination. Kamala’s daughter Kanika, who was not even two years old, died of meningitis. The illness was short and swift. The family doctor first thought it was simple influenza. When the actual ailment was diagnosed by the specialist it was too late to stem the tide. Little Rana felt very sad for Kanika. The winter before when she came with Kamala, he felt a strong natural affinity with her. He took it upon himself to make her happy. She was so adorable. Kanika’s passing was doubly surprising and hurtful to him because somehow in his little brain a perception found place that young and vivacious were not supposed to die. Death occurred only to old and decrepit.

  Nonetheless, the River of Life does not consume only, it also gives back bountifully. Without much delay, Kamala conceived again and within a year of Kanika’s passing she gave birth to a bonny girl who had an uncanny resemblance with Kanika. They named her Juthika, meaning Jasmine. It was as if Juthika was born to replace Kanika in order to lessen the grief of Kamala. And that is the beauty of the River of Life. It is at once the source and destiny of both pain and pleasure. In the depth of sorrow lie the seeds of joy and when the container containing the crop of joy overflows, it carries with it the harvest of sorrow. For pain and pleasure are the two banks of the River of Life. One does not flourish without the other. When one takes the center stage, the other waits in the wings.

  Thus time goes on and the River of Life flows on inexorably, on its mystic strides, in an intricate pattern, from the known to the unknown, from the visible to the invisible, passionately carrying out the plan of the Creator, yet remaining discreetly detached from the pain and pleasure of the mankind, winding past the abode of the exile to its far away destiny, the ever eluding Eternity.

  DEVIKA’S WEDDING

  Another year was poised to bid goodbye. In the first week of December Rana’s annual exam came to an end and the winter vacation began. Kamala came again to spend the vacation with her mother Rajani. This time she brought Juthika, her new daughter. There was no way the family could be oblivious of Kanik
a. Rather her memory was vivid precisely because there was an uncanny resemblance between her and Juthika. And the family perceived a special significance to that.

  One day Aunt Sheila came to see Kamala. After the passing of Kanika she could not convey her condolences personally to Kamala because she had an emergency of her own. So that day she came to congratulate Kamala for the newborn Juthika and share in her joy. Aunt Sheila was always known to take charge wherever she went. Here also she was in control from the time she came till she left. Half the time she was with Juthika. She played with her, bathed her, beautified her, fed her and finally put her away to sleep. All the while she kept on talking to Rajani, Anjali and Kamala. She then cooked some food for everyone.

  During the course of the day Rajani and Sheila had a serious discussion about Devika. It all began when Rajani said that Devika would be sixteen soon and since her education got interrupted anyway she would like to give her in marriage as soon as possible. She asked Sheila to look for a good match and also to pass on the message to her friends and family. Those were the days of conservatives and Rajani was the leader among them. She herself had been married at the age of twelve. Naturally, Devika at sixteen was too old for her to remain unmarried another day!

  Be that as it may, hearing Devika’s wedding Rana’s mind was filled with consternation. Sheila left in the evening. But her visit left some food for thought for Rana. He learnt to go to the river for reflection and peace of mind at times of distress like that. Next morning, after playing a little with his cousin Juthika, Rana ran to the river. He distinctly remembered the talks between Rajani and Sheila about Devika. Many thoughts crowded in his mind to make him apprehensive about his future. He dwelt on Devika, “Would she really go away? If she did and Rajani passed away, what would happen to him?” Tears welled up his eyes. He cried but made sure no one saw. He looked up at the river for a long time. It was murmuring its way to its destination, unmindful of his affliction; the crests of its waves shimmering in the sunlight.