However, happiness and health seldom go together. Just before the autumn festivals Rana became sick. The family doctor said it was bronchitis. With right medicines he recovered soon. But Amit decided Rana needed change of air. He further felt some break was needed for Rajani also. Over the years she had been taking much more than her share of responsibility. Besides, Amit himself needed much deserved rest. Understandably, he wanted to spend some quality time with his only son who was growing up rapidly and his mother Rajani to whom he would never be able to pay back his debts for all that she had been doing for the family and especially, for Rana.
Soon after the festivals were over Rajani, Amit and Rana left for Vishakhapatnam, a medium sized town formerly a part of the princely state of Vijaynagar. It was on the Bay of Bengal on the east coast of India. It was a natural harbor and an important port. It had a beautiful beach. A few miles to the south, there was a cove. The shallow waters of the cove came inland to form a beautiful intra-coastal lake. The cool shades of the palm and coconut groves made it a pleasant picnic spot. Apart from being on the seashore, the natural beauty of Vishakhapatnam also derived from its geographical presence, being surrounded by the high hills of the Eastern Ghats Mountain Range, running parallel to the coast from the north to the south.
To Rana, the centerpiece of the town was a few square miles of area with three hills crowned by a church, a mosque and a temple. They were all painted white against the back-drop of bluish green hills. Because of their elevations they were visible from a distance. He was told that during the days of royalty the church, the mosque and the temple, within the sight of each other, were the gifts of the Maharaja of Vijaynagar to three communities of the town. They were the living testimony to India’s age-old secularism. Rana marveled at the spectacle of the symbols of the three religions on the three hills, the three sisters as he used to call them. He made it an integral part of his ritual every morning to climb up those three hills as a mark of his exercise in spirituality.
The Roy family went on that sojourn primarily for rest and recuperation. Nevertheless, there was enough time for dreaming and planning too. Amit revealed his thoughts about Rana that on his graduation from the University of Calcutta, he wanted to send him to London School of Economics. Rajani said that she wanted to complete her country house to the fullest scope of its design as fast as possible and give a wing each to her children. Sumit was already occupying the first completed wing and was overseeing the construction of the rest. Rana mentioned that his wish was to pursue his career as a business executive on completion of his studies from India and abroad. So the three generations of the Roy family were dreaming of the future.
There is nothing wrong with dreams. Dreaming is aspiring to do something bigger, better, healthier and holier. Dreaming is divine. After all, man is the fruit of God’s dream. God created man in His own image in consonance with His dream. He bestowed upon man all His inheritances pertaining to planet earth, including the aptitude of dreaming. The greatest gift that God has given to man is the gift of mind and intellect. Only the mind has the faculty to dream. Mind is not inhibited by time, space or issues. There is no limit to the extent the mind can weave its dream. Mind can be expanded to traverse the entire universe in a split second. Dream is the nectar of the mind and the juice of creativity that is the life blood of the River of Life. Dream does not die. Dream cannot be killed. Dream cannot be dissected. Dream cannot be maimed or mauled because dream is intangible, yet it is the most potent force behind the River of Life. Dream is also pliant to make changes necessary as the time marches on. Dream keeps the River of Life flowing. The birds of the sky, the animals of the land and the fish of the water do not possess the faculty to dream. As such, they do not have the juice of creativity. No wonder, therefore, that the dinosaurs are extinct, eagles and condors are endangered. Even the lions and tigers are in short supply, simply because they do not have dreams and the creativity to protect themselves from the ravages of nature and the poaching of man. Only procreation is not enough for growth and flourish.
Anyway, Rajani, Amit and Rana returned from rest and recuperation. Amit went back to his business. Rana returned to his college classes. Rajani reverted to her family grind and shuttle between Garden Lakes and her country house. She was not oblivious of her duty to Monika. Rana also kept visiting Monika at a regular interval. The River of Life was flowing to its brim with a sage like serenity. There never is a dull moment in it. Even when it appears to be in lull, behind the scene activities continue to shape the future events that would affect the lives on earth far down the road. Devika and her husband Siddharth came with children to say goodbye. He got a promotion with a transfer to Darjeeling on the Himalayas. In the colonial days when Calcutta used to be the capital of British India, Darjeeling was the summer capital. Rana could not be delighted more for Devika on hearing the news. He congratulated her and she invited him to spend the next summer vacation with her family in Darjeeling.
When all seemed to be cruising along merrily, one morning Monika called Rajani to convey the message that Nandini who was then 92 had breathing problem and she was restless. The family doctor came and on examining her said that her condition was due to old age and there was nothing much that could be done. Nonetheless, he prescribed a medicine to reduce her restlessness. Rajani had a premonition. She went to her country house that same afternoon. Sumit and his family were already living there. So in case of emergency his help was assured. But to be doubly sure she asked Rana to follow her next morning. The following morning Rana left before sunrise and by the time he reached Rajani’s country house, it was mid-morning. From outside the property nothing seemed to be unusual. As he went near the entrance, he saw the doctor coming out of the house with Sumit following him closely behind. Nothing was expressed on their faces. Rana stopped to find out from them if Nandini was alright. Sumit indicated to him to go inside.
Approaching the inner veranda of Nandini’s house he found the four women Rajani, Sarojini, Padmini and Monika wiping tears silently. There was no shrieking, no moaning, and no wailing. The only sign of mourning was silence. Not that they were not anticipating this eventuality, but that when the soul leaves the discarded body and the body remains there motionless and mute, human mind cannot reconcile with the reality. So many decades of familiarity with the departed soul, her voice, her movements come to an abrupt end. The memories tend to fill up the vacuum. The sudden flood of memories overcrowds the mind causing it to be unsettled. This unsettled state of mind gives rise to bereavement which finds expression in tears.
Rana stopped there for a while. He knew that the inevitable which was prolonging for some time had occurred finally. He went inside Nandini’s room and found her to be in deep slumber. Her face was glowing like the setting sun. There was no shred of earthly pain. It only reflected abiding faith in God and eternal peace. Nandini’s soul which was growing increasingly restless in her decrepit body finally found sublime joy and ultimate freedom in God’s abode.
While he was standing in the silence of that solitary room looking at the radiant face of Nandini, his mind flashed back sixteen years, when at the age of two he first met with Nandini at her village home near the bank of the River Padma. Rana went there with Rajani and Devika on vacation. He still remembered her homestead which was built on an elevated land. She had lived there almost seventy years before the partition of the country drove them out.
That part of the world was historically cyclone and flood prone. During their stay there it rained for about a week. The River Padma overflowed its banks and flooded all the adjoining areas. Her house was spared because it was on a higher elevation. But her courtyard and backyard inundated with water. It was still fresh in his memory for carrying him on her lap Devika waded through the knee-deep water for his fun. The flood brought a crop of fish to the courtyard and Devika caught a few and cooked them for his joy.
Turning his thoughts back to Nandini, Rana did not have an iota of doubt that she was an extra-ordinar
y woman. In the midst of storm she could be an embodiment of calm. Surrounded by many she would be a solitary soul, saying her prayers drowning in the depth of her mind. Rana did not recollect her raising voice against anyone; never heard her saying an unsavory word to anyone or about anyone. There was no wonder, he thought, why even in death her face was radiating.
Rana was submerged in his thoughts when Sumit came in and asked for his help. Lots had to be done to give the departed soul a respectful farewell. Friends and family had to be informed. Funeral arrangements had to be made. The River of Life does not stand still; it keeps flowing uninterruptedly with the abandon of the autumn winds. As it ushers in the new with all its bells and whistles, so too does it bid goodbye to the old in all its solemnities and sanctities when they leave their worn out bodies. For the new and old are the two planks of the River of Life. When one is in the glare of the center stage, the other cannot be far behind.
MONIKA’S HOMECOMING
The only predictable characteristic of the River of Life is its unpredictability. When the world is in bliss the specter of storm raises its head in the distant horizon. News came that Amit was very sick at his place of business. The ailment was so grave that he was unable to go to work though his work was just a stone’s throw away from his residence. He was bed-ridden. Arrangements were made to bring him to Calcutta by air under the close supervision of a Doctor. Considering the gravity of the situation, Sumit, Sudip and Rana, all the three men of the family went to the airport to receive him. The airlines delivered him in a wheelchair, a skeleton of his usual stocky self. The immediate cause of illness was severe bronchitis along with a serious attack of sinusitis.
The treatment began in right earnest. Initially, he did not respond to the treatment very well. He remained frail and needed constant nursing. Considering the seriousness of the situation, Rajani’s sharp mind rose to the occasion once again. She was in a battle of attrition with Amit with regard to bringing Monika to Garden Lakes house, the actual home of the family. Rajani told him that she was already seventy and was busy running the household. Nursing itself was a full-time work. She argued that it was well-nigh impossible for her to nurse him at her age. Therefore, it was imperative that Monika was brought to that house immediately. It was the most logical and compelling argument. There was no way a person in his senses could disagree with Rajani’s contention. Naturally, Amit had no answer. He remained silent. Silence is golden! It means acceptance even though with a grain of salt! Rajani took this opportunity to pin him down. She simply converted his silence into an assumed consent. By that time Sumit and his family already moved into Rajani’s expanded country house. She asked Sumit to bring Monika as quickly as possible. There was no time or inclination for foot dragging. Sumit obliged promptly. Monika arrived at the Garden Lakes house the same evening. There was no firework from any side. Thus Rajani’s will prevailed once again. She won the second battle of attrition also against her son Amit. Thus Monika’s entry into the main household of the Roy family brought to an end her sixteen long years of exile of her own making. By a quirk of fate, what was considered impossible even the day before, became a reality by the power of a few shrewd but irrefutable words of Rajani. The twists and turns in the River of Life defy the most prolific imagination.
Notwithstanding that hastily imposed semblance of reconciliation, not all was well with the relationship. It was not meant to be with immediate effect. How could any two sparring individuals who had decided to stay away from each other’s shadows for about a quarter of their life span, open a reasonable dialogue? So communication remained indirect, through Rajani to start with. The next round of battle of will between the mother and the son began as Amit’s health improved. Rajani exploited every opportunity to inject as much normalcy as possible between Amit and Monika, given the deep-seated divergence. She was looking for an excuse to stay away from the Garden Lakes house so that there was no other alternative but to start communicating directly.
The opportunity soon came along Rajani’s way. However, it is not known until today if the opportunity showed itself up to Rajani or it was the making of Rajani’s outstanding ingenuity. Nonetheless, Sumit’s young wife became seriously ill at Rajani’s country house. It was so serious that she could not get up from the bed and she needed the nursing of her seventy year old mother-in-law! Rajani found it imperative to go there and help her for a couple of weeks. Therefore there was no other alternative but to pick up a dialogue somewhere. Not unexpectedly though, the exchanges remained at the bare necessities of life. But something was better than nothing. Rajani’s craft and persistence began paying off rich dividends at long last. Peace returned to the earth, but remained an uneasy and fragile peace. Without an iota of doubt, Rajani also won the third and the decisive battle of attrition against her son hands down.
This is how justice is dispensed in the whirlpool of the River of Life. It is the level playing field; the greatest equalizer of all. Each and every individual in its flow is accountable for his or her acts. The River of Life sets the same code of conduct and the same reward or punishment equally applicable for men and women irrespective of status. Any one in violation is put to rude awakening. There is no exception. No body escapes the sweeping reach of the River of Life. Ego has no place in it; the raised eyebrows of the high and mighty are shredded into fragments like the paddy on the threshing floor.
Amit did not go back to his business. His partners offered him an oversight position in Calcutta. He decided not to accept the offer. Rather he opted for an early retirement. The future horizon of the Roy family drastically shifted its course. The higher education planned for Rana on completion of his graduation became murky. The expansion plan for Rajani’s country house suddenly evaporated in the thin air. The carefully woven dreams of the Roy family went haywire. This is how unpredictable the River of Life could be. The illness of Amit which became the plank for Monika’s homecoming also became responsible for puncturing the dreams of the three generations woven during their sojourn.
Yet time goes on and the River of Life flows on. Along its tortuous ways many meadows are washed away blowing apart the protective fence of their embankments. Mending the fence becomes an inevitable and significant part of the dynamics of the River of Life. Rana’s life continued to be virtually unruffled during this period of his family’s intense battle of turf. He helped in mending fences by remaining absolutely neutral. His focus remained his graduation. Just another year and he would be an honor graduate. That would open up a grand vista for his future. So he stayed focused. He had no doubt that the wounded dream would nurse itself and find its way out. After all, for every dream gone awry ten are in the making; for every dream accomplished ten are waiting to sprout. For dream is the veritable driving force behind the River of Life.
SEEDS OF ROMANCE
Days come riding the chariot of the morning-glow and they leave with the promise of many more to follow. Time and tide stand prisoners to none. The River of Life flows on in its measured strides, never in a hurry, never in a scurry, but always deceptively rapidly. In the midst of this prevailing scenario, Rana became twenty almost imperceptibly. He just completed the Bachelor of Arts exam of his university. With success, he would be an Honor Graduate in Economics. The results would be announced in a few weeks. Waiting out those nerve-wrecking weeks was every student’s destiny. Nevertheless, it was time for rest and recuperation. He had a long-standing invitation from his aunt and childhood angel Devika to enjoy his vacation with her family in Darjeeling. They were waiting for him with Himalayan hospitality.
In the first phase of the journey Rana was supposed to fly to Siliguri at the foothills of the Himalayas. From there a “Toy Train” of the Indian Railways would transport him to Darjeeling about 6500 feet above the sea level. The flight from Calcutta was delayed due to a nor’wester quite prevalent in that part of India in the early summer. The flight finally arrived at Siliguri airport in the darkness of the evening. The next toy train to Darjeeling was sc
heduled to whistle off at six the following morning. The overnight stay was arranged at the Railway Guest House. Siliguri was a sleepy town after dark. There was nothing to see and no where else to go. So he took his dinner and went to bed early in order to get up fresh next morning to commence a delightful journey. In the morning, as Rana stepped out of the Guest House to walk across the rail yard to the station, he had a stunned glimpse of the majestic monstrosity of the Himalayas. The ageless sentinel to the gateway to the kingdom of heavens stood there in dignified silence. That magical moment would forever remain frozen in Rana’s mind.
The toy train with only a couple of compartments steamed out of the station in a short while and in about ten minutes began climbing up the slopes on its serpentine track. Little by little, the Himalayas started unraveling its breathtaking beauty. At first, it was a huge forest of teak and then endless mahoganies. They were followed closely by heavily wooded pines of all shapes and sizes. At higher elevations were rhododendron, fir and birch. Then appeared waves and waves of mountains in arrays, one vying with the other for attention. To romantic Rana, nature lavished the Himalayas with indescribable beauty. No wonder, the mythology and folklore suggested that the heavens existed somewhere on the Himalayas.
As the slopes were getting steeper, the growling of the engine was becoming louder. A few small stations came and went non-stop. At an altitude of about 4500 ft. Rana saw a large station from the distance and mistook it for Darjeeling. However, it was a junction named Kurseong. The train was scheduled to stop there for 30 minutes allowing the tourists to take their breakfast at the Railway restaurant. On enquiry, Rana found that a freshly serviced engine would haul the train to the destination, still about two hours journey. On the way, it would scale the highest point of the train track at a station named Ghum at an altitude of 7000 ft. Thereafter, it would roll down the valley of Darjeeling. He was told that the real mystical beauty of the Himalayas would be revealed somewhere around Ghum. Rana could wait no longer. After the rest, the toy train with its freshly serviced engine began whooshing out of the Kurseong station. Rana held his breath with unknown expectancy. In a short while, a local resident showed him the tea plantations stretching hundreds and thousands of acres of mountainous terrain. He knew that the Darjeeling tea was acclaimed by the connoisseurs as the best in the world and being a tea lover himself, he was glad to see first hand where exactly they were grown.
A Bend in the River of Life Page 6