As the glow of the morning sun was about to pierce through the eastern horizon, another exquisite bud with the promise to be a fully blown flower dropped on the dewy grass of the cool winter morning, offering herself to the Creator of the River of Life. The audition allotted to her in this season of life was over. She was on her way to that bridge connecting this life and the next, where the Creator’s judgment would be delivered to her on the subsequent destination of her soul.
The sky fell abruptly on Rana. All his hopes and dreams lay buried under the rubble of indescribable grief. Mita became hysterical losing her only child through whom she was relishing her dream. One tried to give solace to the other, but solace was conspicuous by its absence in the first shock of the tragedy. Nurse called Sudhir to come down to the nursing home with the hope that he would be able to console Mita. Sudhir came only to be overwhelmed by grief himself, for he too lost his only child.
About an hour into the mourning, the nurse requested the family to come out of the room because by law the nursing home had to complete all the prescribed procedures concerning the last remains of Keka. Before coming out of the nursing home, they all went to the glass window to catch a glimpse of Keka’s hapless but smiling infant daughter, who would never know what she lost in the early hours of her arrival at this beautiful earth. Rana saw his little daughter being fed by the feeding bottle. The nurses were milling around her. It was apparent that knowing what happened to her mother, all their sympathy, love and care were focused on her. Swayed by the bereavement and love concomitantly they left the nursing home.
The first thing that Rana did on reaching home was to pick up Saurav on his arms and kiss him, for he also lost his loving mother forever. He could not talk or stop tears falling from his eyes. Little Saurav never saw that scene before. Naturally, he was perplexed. He began kissing his dad the way everyone kissed him when he cried. Looking at Rana’s tears and swollen eyes the nanny instantly realized what transpired. The chauffeur of his bank came to take him to work as usual. The nanny pulled him aside and told him what happened. Rana picked up the telephone to inform Rajani, but could not gather himself to convey the tragic news. Nanny took the receiver from his hand and communicated the message discreetly to her.
Within a couple of hours Rana’s house became crowded. Friends and family rallied behind Rana and Saurav. Everyone who touched their lives was present in stunned silence. At the age of eighty-one Rajani became totally dazed. Only a week earlier she came and stayed with Keka for a few days. While giving solace to Rana and Saurav, she cried and said, “It is difficult to fathom God’s judgment. He did not take me, a decrepit woman of eighty-one, but He snatched away a twenty-six year old fresh flower.” Saurav remained clung together with his dad. At that hour of grief he would not go to anyone else, he would not leave his dad alone.
Devika and Mita met on that fateful morning after a long hiatus. But unlike before, their reunion occasioned through the stream of tears. They were the only ones in that gathering of mourners who were also present at the chance encounter of Rana with Keka at Darjeeling on the Himalayas. They were the only ones who witnessed their bubbling romance growing step by step toward culmination of their marriage. Monika, Sheila and Kamala stood there in stupefied silence. Amit, Ramnath and Sudhir were shell-shocked.
Shortly, the pall bearers brought the last remains of Keka from the morgue amidst the chanting of God’s glory. After the initial grieving, the women in the gathering got down to make up Keka’s last remains to a gorgeous bride in an outfit that she would have been proud to see herself. When the adorning was complete, Rana was called to formally bid goodbye to his wife. Rana took Saurav also with him for a last glimpse of his Mama.
As he was walking toward Keka’s last remains, he saw in kaleidoscopic succession in his mind’s eye many happy moments together, beginning with that chance encounter in Darjeeling. Coming near the body, he observed the immaculate face of his wife as he had seen her on their wedding night. He stood quietly next to his departed wife still looking fresh, tears streaming down his face like the cascading rain on the Malabar Mountains.
Saurav did not see his mother for over twenty-four hours. Seeing her suddenly from the distance while climbing down the stairs on his father’s arms, he had a glimmer of hope that his Mama came back. He thought his Mama was sleeping. Rana knelt down to kiss his wife and made it easier for Saurav to kiss his mother. He kissed both the cheeks of his mother as he was accustomed to and kept looking at her for a loving response as usual. When he did not receive that familiar response, he quietly placed his head on his father’s right shoulder, tears overflowing his eyes also. Probably, he felt a sense of rejection by his own Mama or perhaps he realized that something terrible happened to her. Whatever might have occurred to his tender mind no one would ever know.
There was nothing else to delay the last journey of Keka. The pall bearers were ready to lead the cortege to the crematorium. Rana did not want Saurav to see his Mama taken away forever. He slowly walked up the stairs to his playroom. Those who could not stand that tormenting scene either, the likes of Rajani, Kamala, Devika, Mita and Ramnath also followed him to the second floor. Rana then kissed Saurav and passed him on to the comforting lap of Mita and walked down the steps in deafening silence.
As the fully adorned last remains of Keka was placed carefully on the pyre, a song that Keka used to sing often to tease Rana began ringing in his ears, “At the end of the night of celebration say goodbye to me, for I am a discarded garland, abandoned and forlorn.” The meaning of that song pierced through his heart. However, he was not sure to whom the song would apply appropriately now; to her, who was departing in the regal grandeur of a queen or to him, who was now destined to carry the solitary baggage through the rest of his life?
The priest guided Keka’s father Sudhir to the funeral pyre. At the instructions of the priest and amidst his chanting of verses, Sudhir went round the pyre three times and then touched Keka’s lips with the torch of fire. At the instant of the contact, the purified butter that had been sprinkled over the pyre became fuel to the fire. With the help of the strong and dry north wind of the winter, the fire spread over the entire pyre in seconds. In a few minutes, the blaze leapt over fifteen feet. In about forty minutes, the logs of the burning pyre began falling on Keka’s face and all over her body one by one. In about an hour, Keka disappeared completely under the heaps of the burning logs.
Precisely at that moment, Rana thought he clearly saw high above the flame and plume of smoke, Keka riding a Pegasus toward the heavens. A student of the Bible class in the missionary school, the verses of the scripture began reverberating in Rana’s desolate mind, “All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field. The grass withers and the flowers fall, because the breath of the Lord blows on them. Surely the people are grass. The grass withers and the flowers fall but the word of our God stands forever.” (Isaiah 40: 6–8).
And sure enough, as much as those withered grass and fallen flowers are replaced by the new grass and new flowers, new men are also born as offspring of the departed ones in different garb, different texture, different mind, different memory and different role play. Keka’s death is a myth; she is survived by her two beautiful offspring to carry her torch in the River of Life to maintain its mandate to keep flowing relentlessly forever. Thus the River of Life continues with its timeless and ageless journey through the hills and mountains, dales and valleys, prairies and pampas, woods and lakes, seas and oceans to its distant destiny, the ever elusive Eternity.
In less than two hours all that remained of Keka were the ashes. The part of the ashes that were directly attributed to her navel were put into an urn and immersed in the holy River Ganges next to the crematorium. The significance of that ritual was based on the belief that the remains of the cremated body would be consecrated with the touch of the holy water and in course of time would mingle with the soil of the river bed, enabling the departed soul to rest in peace. To begi
n with, the whole existence of mankind is rooted to the earth. They emerge from the dust of the earth and to the dust of the earth are they destined to merge.
LIFE AFTER KEKA
By the time the dusk descended, all the friends and family left one by one except Rajani, Devika and Kamala. At that hour of pain and grief for Rana and Saurav, Rajani’s mind would not want to leave. Others had to carry on with their lives, but Rajani’s life was too inextricably intertwined with Rana’s to leave him in the lurch. Just when she thought that her duties of this season of life was over and Rana’s life was well reposed in Keka’s care, tragedy struck and changed the course of his life forever. To Devika and Kamala also Rana was like a son. They too decided to remain with him for a few days to console him and put his fragmented life back in track.
This, in essence, is the intrinsic nature of love. As a picturesque fountain on the distant mountain top gives itself up and cascades down the slopes gracefully to form a formidable river to create and sustain great civilizations for thousands and thousands of years without yearning for any reciprocity; as the flower blooms only to display its beauty to its beholder or breathes its fragrance to the sky to spread its delightful scent to the pleasure-seekers without expecting anything in return; so too does love ever ready to do anything, at any moment and at any cost for the object of love, not seeking any fulfillment in return.
Before the friends and family left for the day, Rana had already announced that according to the joint wishes of Keka and him their baby daughter would be christened, “Smita,” meaning, “She, who wears a perpetual smile.” With Saurav on his arms, Rana was talking to Rajani, Kamala and Devika. Baby Smita came up in their discussions. Throughout the emotion-filled day his mind was also crying for Smita, for she would never see her mother and never know what a mother’s love was like.
Rana called the nursing home to ask if he could bring his aunts at that hour to see his baby daughter. Though the visiting hours were over for the day, they gave the permission considering that he was tied up during the day to perform the last rites of his departed wife. So he left with Devika and Kamala to see Smita. When they arrived at the nursing home a new nurse was on duty. She was actually playing with Smita to make her smile. The nurse appeared to be captivated by Smita’s smile. Baby Smita was brought near the glass window. Looking at her from the other side of the glass pane and seeing her smile in close succession, Devika and Kamala had no doubt that her name could not be more appropriate.
The nurse said the baby was healthy and if she continued to remain so, she would be released in a day or two. In anticipation of the birth of the baby, Rana bought a beautiful silver rattler even before Keka went to the hospital for delivery. He sent it inside, requesting the nurse to rattle it gently near baby Smita to see her reaction at the soothing music. Smita’s response was immediate. She was looking at it, trying to hold it and smiling at the tinkling sound. A thought passed through his mind that having decided to mother baby Smita so single-mindedly, how much Keka would have loved her adoring smile! He looked at Devika and Kamala. They were wiping their tears. Similar chain of thoughts must have been going through their minds also. The tragedy of little Smita was bound to touch the heart of any normal human being.
They came back soon to be around Saurav to tell him about his little sister before he would go to bed. He was eating dinner and talking to Rajani and his nanny. Rana told him that they had gone to see his little sister Smita. That made him animated, prompting him to ask many questions about his little sister—“How big was Smita? Did she talk? Was she playing or sleeping? Did she know his name? Did she come to Rana’s arms?” Rana responded to his questions to his apparent satisfaction. He assured Saurav that next morning he would take him and great-grandma to see his sister. He felt pleased. He already finished his dinner. Now was the time for him to come to his daddy’s lap and continue his discussions till he would feel sleepy and would be put away to sleep.
Next morning Rana drove Rajani and Saurav to the nursing home to greet Smita. Kamala and Devika too accompanied them, for they had so much compassion for her the night before. Saurav became excited to see his little sister. He wanted to touch her, hug her and kiss her. The nurse on duty brought her near the glass window. He kissed on the window pane meant for his sister.
Rajani said, “Smita would grow up to be as beautiful as her mother.”
Kamala and Devika also concurred with her. While wiping her tears Rajani again said, “I cannot make out God’s justice. Such a divine baby, she will not know her mother ever!”
As Rajani was lamenting, Saurav saw Smita smiling and said, “Daddy, look, look, sister is smiling at me.”
Rajani also saw her smile and said, “What a beautiful smile she is blessed with! She could not have a better name,”
Saurav asked his dad to take his sister home with them. Rana explained to him that the doctor would allow her to go home only after a few days and he was the one who would come and take her home. He was happy to hear that and nodded his head in agreement. Eventually, little Smita came home. Mita and Rana went to the nursing home along with Saurav to obtain her release. Friends and family were present at Rana’s residence to accord her a fond and affectionate homecoming. But, most of all, it was a field day for Saurav. He was happy, he was proud and he would play with his little sister all day long.
All these days Saurav asked about his mother many times. Rana kept on telling him that his Mama had gone to the Heavens, the house of God. No one would be able to see her any more, but she would come every night to kiss him and his little sister in their sleep. Saurav trusted that story by nodding his head. Nevertheless, he would like to ask about his mother once in a while to make sure and be contented with the tale that Keka would really come to kiss him and Smita at night.
The nature of love is this. It is always imbued with a blind trust and purity of conviction in matters relating to the object of love.
On the thirteenth day of passing of Keka, religious rites were performed to make certain that her soul would rest in abiding peace. It was a day of prayer and tear. But there were lots of smiles too, mainly because of the two adorable babies that Keka left behind as her humble contribution to the River of Life, the essence of which was the eternal interplay between joy and sorrow, hope and despair, light and darkness. When one comes to play, the other lurks behind the curtain, biding its time. Thus time goes on and life glides along. And on the planks of tear and laughter alternately, the River of Life flows on relentlessly to its far away destiny, the ever imponderable Eternity.
Rajani was undoubtedly impressed with Keka’s sense of responsibility and congenial nature. She really believed that Keka was a lotus among the lilies. She did not have a lot of good things to say about the “new crop of women,” who she thought “lost their senses in the newly found freedom.” Be that as it may, the unlikely and untimely demise of Keka muted Rajani’s feelings. But giving up in despair was not in her genes. That explained why she stayed along with Rana and his children to boost his morale and oversee the physical and mental growth of Saurav and Smita. At eighty-one, she became frail but her mind still remained sharp. She was not expected to do a lot physically, but she could supervise the nannies as closely as ever. Yet she was hands-on. On some days, she would massage the two babies with olive oil under the winter sun and talk to them and sing baby songs. If she would stop ever, Saurav would insist upon her to sing the same song all over again. It was an immense pleasure for Rana to watch that scene in the late mornings on Sundays and holidays. Saurav seemed to enjoy talking to Rajani endlessly. But it was never tiring for her. Rather she appeared to be drawing unlimited energy from him. While massaging Smita with olive oil on her lap, Rajani would say, “Look, look, she will grow up to be so beautiful. She will be the prettiest among all our women. What a pleasing smile she is blessed with.”
Rana would look forward to Sunday mornings to be with Rajani and his two children to enjoy that spectacle of pure joy. Yet the only music t
hat was resonating in the emptiness of his lonely heart was the solitary tune of a dirge, because Keka was not physically there to share in his delight. Many a times, he choked up to suppress his tears, for he did not want to show his sorrow to Saurav lest that would make him sullen with the thought of his departed Mama.
Saurav and Smita were growing up rapidly under the loving care of their great-grandma Rajani with the help of the two nannies. One daily visitor was Mita. No matter what, she would come and be with her grandchildren for few hours and offer her helping hand to Rajani. She made it her duty to help Rajani in her daunting task of rearing up the children of the gem of her eyes at that ripe old age. Among others who used to come and give their love and affection to Saurav and Smita was Ramnath. He was an invariable weekend visitor. He became seventy-two and retired from his law practice completely, leaving the entire responsibility of his law firm with his son Sudhir. Apart from deriving immense pleasure of seeing his great-grandchildren, he also had a favorite pastime to nostalgically ruminate over the days long gone by with Rajani.
Birth or death, pleasure or pain, nothing keeps the River of Life from flowing even for a moment. Thus winter gave way to rejuvenating spring and spring ushered in the sizzle of the summer. Soon Smita learned to crawl, making it more enjoyable for Saurav to play with his little sister. To encourage Smita, he would also crawl side by side with her and then go ahead of her, inducing her to chase him. And the house would be filled with the incomparable giggle of Smita.
Rajani’s eighty-second birthday sneaked in. Rana made arrangements to celebrate the day. She strongly discouraged him, saying that the family was still in mourning. Rana said that the celebration was as much for her as for the two children. Ramnath and Mita supported him. On that day, Saurav and Smita were dressed up in new clothes along with Rajani. They also received their new toys. It was a celebration for both old and new. Despite the underlying bereavement, the measured celebration breathed new life into Saurav and Smita. And without an iota of doubt, their joy filled Rajani with unsurpassed delight. And that is how it should be.
A Bend in the River of Life Page 18