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Short
Story
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The Judgment
By Minakshi G. Borthakur
[Summary of the story: The story is all about struggle of a simple and
village woman Bonti, who despite odds and pains in absence of her husband,
has been involved in all activities to grow her only son Dhan. She has
faced such a problem from one of her neighbors called Naram. He has been
trying to take undue advantages from her in the absence her husband Naren,
who left her soon after their marriage without even making the customary
advances at her as her husband. Naren disappeared somewhere. Thinking for
her future well being her shrewd and foresighted mother in law suggested
her to get a child from someone else. A young man named Ananta who took
shelter in their house fathered a child for Bonti. In this way the lonely
woman Bonti was able to maintain her self-dignity as a married woman in a
rural conservative society. But her dejection and anxiety is no less than
other suffering women. Ananta has come back loosing a leg of his own. In
response to his mother Dhan has accepted him and taken responsibility by
himself. The main viewpoint of the story is the humanitarian approach of a
woman. The mother in law has found that she can not leave her daughter in
law without having a chance of meeting a close one who can take care of the
later in her absence. Dhan is the gift of that time which Bonti has
developed in course of social evils till she attained a moment when she has
got the chance to establish him as the son of Ananta, who has come back at
last. ]
The Text:
: "You are not going to school today."
: "Why not, I won't remain absent before exams? Teacher asked me just
like."
: "Let him say, but you can't go today. I am saying this."
Dhan has got such an embrace from his mother that he realized there might
be something for which she has prevented his going to school.
: "Ok, I am not going. But I am just coming back from Robinda's
home. I have to learn two arithmetic problems."
: "No you can't move anywhere, stay at home. You have not heard
me?"
: "O my God, what happened today? Is it a bad forecast for me? Don't
go this way, that way?"
Dhan has become angry. He has started filling soils at the roots of a betel
nut tree. His interest lies in getting an earthworm. Otherwise how he will
pass the day!
His mother came near to him and said, "What are you doing? Why are you
digging the soils near the betel leaf tree?"
His mother came with an angry mood. He saw her face and thought that she
might be facing something very serious.
Bonti drew a petal out from the banana tree. Bulk of earthworms fell down.
Few were jumping here and there. She said to him, "Take these, but
don't go across the bamboo forest. Many people are gathered there to
finalize the marriage at Konlora's home. You need not show your
fishing."
He has caught the knife at her hand and said, "Can you give me the
knife?"
: "Why?"
: "Give me, give me. I have to do lot of works. You please go inside.
Do not say about ordinary things."
Dhan has started saying like an adult. He left for the channel with his
fishing hook.
Bonti stayed there for a moment and saw his steps. Then like a new bride
she took care of her sador and went towards Konpai's home.
Konpai was collecting some ferns at his gate. He asked her, "What
happened? Why you are running restlessly like the brown cow of Buben?"
She replied, "How you will know it? If yes, then, by evening you will
say me like the she-goat of Rupen." She was relieved of saying so.
The cow of Buben's home is absolutely unruly. Wherever she goes she torn
the rope and destroys bamboo fences. As soon as she enters, she starts
eating restlessly. The man who goes to send her out must be a bold; otherwise
he will be tossing about in pain. And who else does not know about that
goat of Rupen, she is a headache for the whole village. Only she knows how
to enter through the splits of bamboo fence. In contrary she is tied with
two bamboo splits in her neck.
Konpai has become more interested. She is very talkative and playful in the
whole village. Nobody could get an escape playing tricks and saying lies.
She will find out the roots of all. Whenever she stands for the truth, she
will raise her voice even people from seven villages gathered. Everybody
knows it, that's why a man like Phuleswar is still in her bond. Each and
every home in the village has some problems from the men. But, in case of
Konpai? Nothing, Phuleswar is also afraid of her. Her strength is not less.
Few jealous and unscrupulous people of the village like to call her as
Hirimba. This name is popular in the village, but no one sounds in front of
her.
After the death of Bonti's mother in law, she likes to prefer Konpai in any
problem. Bonti has got a feeling of writhing in agony of saying something.
Konpai has come to nearer and asked,
: "What is the matter?"
: "I have seen him coming today."
: "Is he, when?"
: "In the early morning."
: "But, why you are afraid of him?"
: "If he comes today!"
: "Where is Dhan?"
: "He is near the channel with his fishing hook. I have not sent him
to the school."
: "Ok, don't worry. Get him out saying strictly. This is not the
proper way. Let him also have a good lesson."
: "What do you mean? He will announce it in the whole village."
: "Let him do, what will be the result?"
: "Dhan's appearance has become exactly like Ananta. Do you see?"
: "Let him get, then? Why do you have such fear? Go to your home, go
now."
Spitting out with betel nut Konpai has crossed the courtyard a fast with a
bunch of sorrels in her hand. Bonti has come back. Blowing the burning
charcoal with her mouth she has filled the fire place with some twigs of
trees. All of a sudden the fire place has eagerly come up. Keeping the pot
with water for boiling she has gone to see Dhan once and came back. He has
arranged two banana leaves to get rid of sunlight. Now he is under the
protection of shades. She has discovered a creel in the handle of the long
knife kept on the wall of the kitchen while she is about to wrap her sador
on the waist. As soon as she noticed four shingi (a kind of muddy water
fish) and two kawoi (a kind of muddy water fish) she has become pleased
with a smile. How he has caught all those fishes in a short while?
Therefore, people say about his good luck. If the plants of wood-apple,
coconut do not remain alive in someone's home, they ask him for
plantations. In Biren's home while they are about to sow paddy grains for
growing seedlings, they ask him to sow the first fist.
She has called out him loudly: "Come my child, have a cup of
tea."
Though he has responded, but was late.
So she came to him taking the teapot, two bowls and with some molasses.
He has become pleased with a smile.
: "Give me, give me…… You should know that even you call me I can't go
leaving the fishing hook. Once I had been there, but came back again
because you were not there."
: "Ok dear, who will eat lots of fishes?"
: "Oh, what do you say with an evil eye? Who did tell you to say such
nonsense?"
: "Leave it aside. Have your tea."
Picking the teapot with a towel she has divided two cups of tea.
He has started to taste the hot tea. He said to her, "I have come to
know why you prevented me from going. Why do you women, stumble on the
pretences of others?"
: "What have you known?"
: "I have seen Naram. Perhaps that might be the reason."
She remained quiet. Last time what sort of nuisances he had created. Since
then Dhan started to realize the body of his mother as female. So, whoever
comes he is used to say: mother you go inside. If necessary he takes stocks
of all works, he begins talking with others. Actually, their works mean
bamboo-cutting, dealer of sanchi tree or dealer of beetle nuts. He is
enough to solve such problems. The household requirements are filled up by
the selling out things from their garden. In the season of jackfruits
vendors come daily. If Dhan does not remain at home, Bonti now a day never
feels comfortable for bargaining.
She has felt a thrilling sensation as soon as taking two cups in hand. She
has heard a sound as if someone, through the front door, has entered into
the house. She has come to inside a fast. Yes, Naram has arrived and
occupied her drawing room. As soon as he has seen her said, despite calling
so many times I have got no response. So I am sitting here.
: "Why you are coming here again?"
: "In search of you."
: "Why do you need me?"
: "Have I not told you that during the time of rasa festival I will
bring you home!"
: "I asked you not to do that."
: "Think it. If others could touch your body, could make you pregnant,
then why not you pass a night with me?"
: "No, I can't."
: "Listen, don't come into fray. Give me a baby boy only. Rest is not
your business. I will send back this barren woman to her mother's
home."
: "You go please. Don't disturb me. I have told you- it's not possible
for me."
: "Listen to me. I know that you are very clever. I will recognize
Dhan as step-son. I will be agreed to give the whole lands near namghar in
the name of Dhan. Are you satisfied now?"
: "No, you go from here safely. Otherwise I will call him."
: "What, are your son able to uplift your courage?"
: "Of course yes, he is fifteen now. His voice echoes the voice of his
father."
: "Hey hey, is it so his father's voice? Whom? Naren or Ananta?"
: "Whatever you think. Go out, out."
Bonti has tried to expel him from her home.
He was about to leave and said, "I will come on day after tomorrow. I
have come to know that on that day you will enter into the fourth day of
your menstruations. Try to send your son somewhere".
: "You bustard, why you are here?" She said.
She was shivering out of anger and perturbation. But as soon as the face of
Dhan came to her, she became calm. She has been carrying two types of
fires, one of her inner world. The other came, because of people like
Naram. At dusk her mother in law stayed with her keeping her hands on her
head. She was her pathfinder. But she had passed away. In the meantime Dhan
has learnt to stand nearby her. He has learnt that. Bonti has come to the kitchen
with a fresh mind.
She has cooked a curry of shingara fish with fern and tuber of the arum.
Before giving a final touch she has increased the strength of fire and gave
some juice of sour lime. When the curry became ready she has uncovered the
pan and noticed it with a fire stick. The curry is now ready to serve. She
has kept the pan down from the fire. Then she has put rice into the cooking
pot and kept it on fire. In the meantime Dhan has given some puthi fish.
She has taken some big fishes out from those and gave into the hot frying
pan. After some time she has turned that upside down with a ladle and
displaced the entrails from those small ones. Dhan likes that roast
prepared in a dry pan. After dropping those roasts she has fried other
fresh fishes in deep mustard oil and kept aside. Then she has burst some
methi and dropped a glass of lemon juice with salt and turmeric. She has
asked Dhan: 'Give me a bamboo spike.' At the moment she has observed the
frying pan, but the fire is not up to the mark.
Dhan has thrown two bamboo sticks. She has taken two kawoi fishes and sewed
their ears and kept on the burning charcoal. It is believed to be good
eating if you get the roasted fish on Saturday and Tuesday. Of course the
best time is Saturday. People say if shani is bad it helps to recover. But
the grandmother of Dhan prevented roasted fish from the students.
She has left for extracting water from boiled rice after preparing a
mixture of roasted fish with onion, salt and mustard oil. Dhan has a nature
of eating warm rice. She does not like it. She says to him, "How do
you eat hot meal?"
After getting a bath he has wrapped a towel on his waist and came to the
dinning room and sat down into a small tool. She has looked at him for a
long time. Really this has reminded her of her Ananta. He also came here
and sat down like him. He ate food from her. Today Dhan has got everything
---his beauty, his qualities and has filled up the void.
Both of them came back to their room and closed the backdoor. Dhan has
decided to design a handle for his knife. She has preferred a lap in her
bed. Every village woman likes to have a lap in the noon. She likes too.
During the time of harvesting and ploughing only there is shortage of time.
The sun prepares for setting during the lunch hours in winter. There is no
time for rest. Long days ago her mother, while coming back from paddy
fields after changing locations of she-goat, said to Bonti, "Come,
dear konchuwali, give some rice sour to the cattle. I am going to have a
lap." If there was a weekly sitting of haat she never had any sleep.
Her father went for haat. He took out all fruits and vegetables from his
own garden for selling. At that time her help was inevitable. She tightened
everything for him, even a milk bucket from the hidden pocket. Then
konchuwali came out with two cups of tea and handed over to the parents.
The duty of her mother was to start selling by giving a beetle-nut. She
must buy at least two bananas from the carrier. One day an interesting
incident took place. During that time her father had hide a handful of
malbhog banana inside the meji of straws. Three days ago her brother Nandu
saw that the bananas were kept covered carefully by some leafs. While, next
day he saw that the bananas were missing, he was searching everywhere. But
it was in vain. He found neither in the paddy house, nor in the kitchen.
Her mother was not aware of it. Everybody came to the conclusion that the
positive result would be displayed by the carrier itself. Yes, that was
correct. Her father made the bananas ready for sale and kept covered in the
carrier. At that time he did not inform even his wife. Then she had
forwarded a one rupee. Her father said, "Take something quickly. I am
in hurry."
"Hey, father of konchuwali, if you give me a banana, it's enough for
me."
Her version had made him a smile. How was that, I couldn't take a banana
even by hiding from these people.
"Ok take few."
Then all of them were laughing loudly. She was still remembering, how her
mother went to the kitchen with a handful of banana. But, where is that
day, where is that time? One day konchuwali Bonti was married to namghoriya
Naren. He was younger than her father by four years only. Nobody was ready
to hear her cry. Then she was fifteen years only. In most of the villages
the girls were marriageable at their fifteen. She was also married at that
time. At home the mother and her son only.
But after few weeks he left his home. The fact which her mother in law and
Konpai knew was that her husband did not touch her body. In this way she
had passed seven years. She had to take care of whole things, including
home, paddy fields etc. If necessary, she had to go to the haat. The
brother of Konpai only helped her weekly by selling some vegetable items.
Since then the contractual ploughing had been made in their paddy fields
and as a result her mother in law was getting only half of it. But she had
been managing her home by selling half of the productions. This way the
whole year was managed. Of course this process did not last for a long
time. Her mother in law felt in sickbed. She had lost her vigor and energy.
Bonti was in her perfect time. The old woman sat besides her with a sad
mind. She felt that as if she was earning sins by bringing other's girl. In
spite of this Bonti did not utter a word, nor she expressed anything. She
was totally different, sometimes sitting before she asked her, "What
will happen to you after my death?" She replied, "What nonsense
do you say, had I been not here who would take care of you?" The woman
was expressing her pain of perseverance, as if she was taking a stone on
the bosom of her heart. Bonti read out kirtanas just near to his bed.
In an evening of those days somebody knocked at her door. Bonti has
lightened a lamp and opened the door. Then, pushing the door a man has
entered forcefully. Leading her to a state of surprise he has closed the
door himself. Then he told her in fear, "I am escaping from the
police. If some villagers find me, they may hand over me to the police. I
need a place to stay for two nights only. I won't harm you at all."
She said suddenly, "Wait for sometime, you see, without the knowledge
of my mother in law I can't allow anybody to stay with us. Even there is no
male person in our home."
He said, "I know I will convince your mother." He went to her bed
quickly.
Touching the feet of her mother he told, "Mother, kindly give me
permission to stay for two nights."
: "Who is there? Is it Naren?"
She was trying to touch him at her bed. He came nearer and touched her hand
and said, "Mother, you know I am like your own son. I am asking to
stay for two nights. I am in great trouble."
"Ok, my son, stay here as long as you feel."
Bonti has viewed the man through her veil. There is blood on his arms. The
shirt has become red. She has prepared boil water.
"Hey, come over here." She has called the man. He has sat down on
a tool and kept something nearby. She has asked, "What is that?"
"Revolver!"
"Revolver?" She uttered suddenly and pressed the inside door.
: "Nothing will happen to you. Don't be afraid of it."
She has asked from that position, "Why are you carrying that with
you?"
: "It is required."
: "Ahh….h.."
He has made a sound of groaning. Pressing the arm with another hand he
said, "Give me some boiled water into a bucket."
Having fear she has brought that bucket, used for giving boiled rice water
to the calf, and poured water into it. He begins to wash the wound with a
towel. But as the backside remains unseen for him, he has said to her,
"Put the handled knife into fire. It is required."
After putting the knife into fire she has again tried to wash his wound.
It's difficult. The flow of blood has not been stopped. The head of a hard
black thing has been seen. He has shouted while fingers touched that steel
like hard head.
: "Ah, bring a knife."
She has forwarded the knife. He has said, "Don't give me. You catch
the hard black thing with the head of this knife and bring it out."
: "No, it's not possible for me." She has been frightened.
He said loudly, "Bring it." She has marked the revolver and
noticed his face. Then with the help of the hot head of the knife she has
brought out two inches long hard steel. At once the sharp flow of blood has
come out and made her sador red. The floor also has become red. He has
pressed the wound with his fingers.
: "Ok, keep it carefully." She said and went to bring some
herbal. Getting crushed he has overlapped the herbs upon his wound. He made
a smile and looked at her face.
: "What has been bound by the doctor?"
: "This is herbal medicine. It will dry up within two days. Once there
was a wound in our father's foot by the plough. Look, as if this size, just
as long this middle finger. The herbal medicine cured it. This will do for
you."
He remained standstill and looked at her. How is this woman, who has been
caring an unknown man in the middle of the night! No, she has not been a
woman even. She is a very innocent girl. She has not asked his name at
least. Suddenly she has found that standstill face and left that place with
the bucket of water.
On that day she had to give him water while washing face for dinner. After
eating he got a sleep at the retiring room. Bonti had also got a sleep
nearer to her mother-in law. In the late night a pair of unfulfilled eyes
remained without bliss of twinkling. Somewhere in her bosom some sort of
bubbles were rising out of her sad emotions.
Days entered into fourth. During these days she has come to know that his
name is Ananta. He belongs to a village in the lower Assam. However, she
could not find out the cause, for which he has been moving around. The
wound of Ananta has come to an end. The old woman asked Bonti from her bed:
"Come here."
: "What happened to you mother?"
: "Where is he?"
: "He is scrapping and smoothing a handloom beam at the rice pounding
shed."
: "Don't allow him to go. That man has gone, but never comes back. If
this man goes, he won't come back."
: "He is meant not for us. How I will keep another man mother?"
: "If you decide to keep, you will be able to do. Ask him for a
son."
The decision was overheard by Ananta while coming to drawing room for a
beetle nut. She has come slowly towards outside. She has never enjoyed a
company of a man, but during these four days she has been experiencing a
man. She has taken care of him, experienced care and today what does her
mother in law say like this? She feels uneasy to look at his forehead.
He has stood near to her and tightened the bundle of reeds used for walls
through his knife. A bit of dry soil has fallen down. She has covered the
spot quickly by her hands as if she has covered nakedness which her mother
in law uncovered just now.
He has sat together with her. The whole night has passed. She is a very
simple woman, a shelter of emptiness. Really, she is totally empty after
all fulfillments. They have talked. Where is the beginning of a wrong time?
Which has never asked for an end?
She has narrated how she had to start a family with an aged man. That man
never puts a look on her, not even has touched her. Even he never calls
upon her name.
With complete surprise he has heard her voice attentively. And towards late
night he has come very close to her. It seems so close that she even
understands that she has a body of her own. At last she has come to know
the touch of a man.
Her mother told her that marriage is required to purify women's bone. The
unmarried girls are ceremonially impure. And if she dies without any issue
the males are supposed to go to hell. Even in such cases the vedic rituals
performed by such males are meaningless. She, keeping herself amidst his
arms, has asked whether he has a son or not.
: "I am not married."
: "What? You are unmarried? Mother has told me that childless man has
no escape from the hell. I don't have a child. Although my male has
died…."
She has stopped.
: "How long time you have passed without him?"
: "Seven years."
: "Are you interested to live in this way?"
: "What shall I do?"
Just after some time she has asked him,
: "Are you going away?"
: "Yes, I have to go. I will be going whenever orders come from the top."
: "Whose order? Where you will go? Why you will go?"
: "We are members of militants. We are fighting for an independent
Assam. I have been keeping myself away from my home for the last five
years. I have not seen anybody of my home. It is injustice for me sleeping
with you. But you have sacrificed everything for me."
: "You don't go away. I am not going to leave you. Where you will move
restlessly with this wound?"
: "I have to go. I have nothing to give you. Whatever I have it's all
for the nation, all for the party. I can not be tightened up with a
woman."
: "You have lots to give me. My mother in law also said like
this."
Both of them have got frightened because of a sound from the bed. They made
a smile.
: "Look, sometimes we have to run away even because of hearing a sound
of our own breathing."
In the midnight two frightened breaths have spoken each other, looked their
eyes and tightened their bodies nearer. The sounds of two breaths have
become one.
The woman lying like a rotten wood has got up. Bonti has become frightened
just thinking of a possibility might come from Ananta. After fulfilling all
unfulfilled needs he has got raised and sat on the bed. The woman, after
getting all fulfillments, has offered gratitude to him. This kind of
attachment has tightened both for another two days.
On the third day of fulfillment while he was in sleep a small instrument
kept near his head has made a sound. He has untied the embrace of Bonti and
sat on the bed.
: "Piyoli is speaking…"
: "Yes. Is it final?"
: "I am coming just at the moment."
: "Ok. All right boss."
Bonti has heard his response only. All of a sudden, not even allowing her
to say something, he has got up and put on his shoes and tightened the
buttons on his shirt. And he has kept his weapons in proper position.
: "Yes darling, I am going. It's my time now."
: "Are you going? Just, right now?"
: "Yes, I have to go now. Come up. Open the door."
She has asked, "Who is Piyoli?"
: "I am." He said.
She has caught him forcibly from the back side.
: "Look, Leave me, I have to go. If I survive I will come back one
day."
: "If something remains!'
: "That is your luck."
He has touched the feet of the sleeping mother and vanished in darkness.
Bonti has started crying. This crying has given by Ananta. She has never
thought that such a woman living in isolation without any feelings years
after years could cry loudly in the late night.
After two months of this incident her husband has appeared all of a sudden.
Her mother in law has said, "Get out him."
She has stayed in full bloom in a corner of the house. His mother has given
the news that she is pregnant. She has warned him, "Get out."
The man stayed in the verandah of their namghar for two nights and has left
at once. The two women have asked her whether he has come to her bed before
leaving.
She has felt it right to let others hear that yes, he has come to her bed.
After three months later Ananta has arrived in the mid night. He has sat
for some time keeping his knee down.
Then he has whispered her, "You will be mother of a baby boy."
He is about to leave and said with lots of confidence, "You will take
sandur for me, I will never die. I will come back one day. Take care of my
mother."
He has turned from the door and said, "Do you know, they have killed
four of my people. They also killed my father and brother during the
torture. My mother has died because of unbearable pain. My sister has
disappeared. The version of Haren has made it confirmed that an army party
has taken her away. He has gone away in the darkness of the back courtyard.
: "Bonti, you please remain for me, I will come back soon."
She remembers only that saying. He has left. Since then Naren has been
growing a son of bhakat. Many changes have come to his life. His mother has
expired. His son has become old. The houses have got lightened. Only the
eyes of Bonti have remaining alive. She opens her door in the midnight. She
extends her sights as far as she can in the midst of hole in the pedal
shed. She jumps up even hearing a sound at any moment. She cannot remain in
peace, even in her bed. She tries to give her eyes rest but sleep never
comes to her. It seems as if, since several days, a cruel expectation has
been keeping her alive. Yet she has been in happy mood with her son Dhan.
But after so many years how Naram has got this news and started to destroy
her foods and all. That is a mystery now.
Dhan asked his mother, who was restless in her bed, and said, "You
should not be worried about anything. I will teach a lesson to Naram."
Dhan was busy in repairing a handle of the knife.
His mother has got frightened. She has found that the grace and beauty of
Ananta has been exposed in her son. What's right, he can do whatever he
desires. She has made a jump from the bed. "Look me here and give the
knife."
He could not find any cause why his mother at once has gone away taking the
knife. After tightening the she-goats Bonti has gone towards the cowshed.
She has put some paddy husk over the fireplace. In the evening it has to be
burnt out. The two cows are pregnant. They are to be kept away from
mosquitoes and other bites. All of a sudden she has remembered that the
shradha ceremony of her mother will be on the day after tomorrow. How Naram
would approach to her among lots of people. She has felt that Dhan, who is
drinking a cup of tea, really resemblances with Ananta. In his presence
it's a fact that her chest has not frightened at all.
After combing her hairs she has taken sandur and gone to the gateway. He
told her, "You will take sandur for me. I will come back."
Then, at once Dhan has reached to her while she was talking at the gateway
of Konpai and said, "Come mother, quickly. My father is coming."
: "Father?" She has looked him in surprise. Dhan knows everything
too. Then, whether he is saying for Naren or Ananta?
She has run after her home in a hurry. Who? Who may be? He has told me to
come back. Is he really? She has found a crippled man.
Yes, that stout and strong man is Ananta. He has left only one of his legs.
Yet, he is coming back to her.
In the meantime Dhan has taken out the artificial support and given his own
shoulder. It's very delicate now…
*****
Notes:
Puthi: a kind of silver color fish.
Singara: a kind of small fish.
Kawoi: a kind of muddy water fish.
sandor: vermillion.
sanchi: a kind of tree which juice is used in preparing perfume.
singi: a kind of muddy water fish.
Rasa: the festival related to the birth of Lord Sri Krishna.
Methi: a kind of masala used in food preparation.
Shani: the planet Saturn.
Haat: a weekly market in villages.
Meji: a tall & thickly dropped wood/straw.
Namghoriya: a person performing daily rituals in temples in vaishnav cult.
Kirtanas: Prayers in vaishnav cult.
bhakat: a person engaged in ritual activities.
namghar: temple in vaishnav cult.
sador: a long cloth wrapped by Assamese woman to cover her body.
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Short Story
A Nostalgic Journey
By Nipam Kumar Saikia
“In the twinkling of an eye 21 days have elapsed by,” thought Nihar,
sitting on a bench of the Summer Hill Railway Station, waiting for the
arrival of the toy train that will take him to Kalka, in a pensive mood. He
is a lecturer in English in a college of Assam. He had come a long way from
Assam to Himachal Pradesh University to do a refresher course in English 21
days ago. The course was mandatory for him, but not the place. He could
have done the same course at one of the universities of Assam. But
traveling is his passion. The course simply paves the way for him to travel
some of his favorite destinations of India. Being a college teacher in a
rural college of Assam, he hardly gets opportunity to travel. Nor can he
afford long traveling. Yesterday the course was over. Through this course
he has met 50 new friends from different colleges of India. Indeed, a
unique experience! All of them had already gone back to their respective
states yesterday itself, without wasting anytime. But he did not start his
homeward journey yesterday. He wanted to see the whole of Shimla town for
the last time with a free mind. Accordingly he booked his train ticket as
well as aero plane ticket. His homeward journey will be full of excitement.
From Shimla to Kalka he will go by toy train, from Kalka to Delhi by
general train and from Delhi to Guwahati by aero plane; from Guwahati to
his native town he will have to go by bus. This will be his first plane
journey. But after bidding adieu to his friends at the same train station
he became sad. So much so that he did not go out to Shimla town, rather
confined himself to his hotel room only. To get over his pensive mood he
had to take resort to an Agatha Christie novel. But, when, all of a sudden,
the images of his parents and sisters started coming to his mind like a
series of moving pictures, he became restless. At the thought of meeting
his family members after so many days and the plane journey from Delhi to
Guwahati, he was literally elated. And now when the time to leave the
resplendently beautiful Shimla has come, he is again sad. Particularly,
yesterday so many friends were there, so many embraces, emotional
interactions, but now he is alone! Tear springs to his eyes.
At last the much awaited toy train comes. Nihar jumps to his feet.
The rhythmic toy train journey, particularly the long tunnel part, was
indeed marvelous. As the train entered into the long tunnels, he felt as if
he was Sir Gawain, an adventurous hero, entering into a big castle on
horseback seeking the green knight there. The moment the dancing train was
out of the tunnels, he was once again mesmerized by the beauty of
shimmering Shimla. This got embedded at the deep core of his heart. “The
daffodils, which Wordsworth had seen many years back, could, on
recollection in his thoughtful mood, produce the same feelings of joy in
his heart in his later years as he had once experienced in the company of
his sister. The same thing will surely happen to me also,” thought he. He
could identify himself with the great poet’s capacity to treasure up the
impression of nature. But as the toy train reached Kalka, the sun
became hot. After biting cold, came the sweltering heat. Instantly bids of
perspiration stood out on his forehead and Shimla was reduced to just a
memory.
He was rejuvenated once again when he
reached the airport in Delhi for his plane journey. The plane journey was simply
amazing.
At Guwahati he catches a bus that goes directly to his native town.
As
the time to reach his native town draws near, he becomes more and more
restless. It is not because of his excitement to see his parents and
sisters, but because of his apprehension to miss the only bus from his town,
where he stays at a rented house, to his village.
Although Tennyson’s most celebrated poem Ulysses inspires
Nihar ‘to strive, to seek, to find and not to yield’, but he doesn’t want
to become adventurous just for the sake of it like Cervantes’s Don Quixote.
In the 21st century, when the whole world has become a global
village, thanks to the wonders achieved by science in the realm of
communication, the road to Nihar’s hamlet simply refused to be part of that
global village. It is happy to be medieval. In the deep core of his heart
Nihar too thinks that he ‘will arise and go now’ to his little village
which is on the east of the old town, but he has to become a medieval
warrior if he wants to go there by cycle or on foot. It is because of the
aged serpentine road which passes around almost fifty villages including
his. It was to be covered with asphalt many years ago.
As over the years the fields changed, the rivers, the villages, the villagers
and MLAs of the constituency, in which the road falls, changed, the road
refused to change. It simply worsened. By the public bus his village is two
hours, nay sometimes more than that, away from the national highway. But
the distance is just of five kilometers. The bus takes so much of time for
two conspicuous reasons. One, the dilapidated state in which the road is
in. It is a kuchcha road. Earlier it was cobbled. But with the passage of
time the Public Works Department even stopped scattering cobbles over it.
Very spontaneously there developed big and bigger potholes throughout the
road. During rainy season these potholes would transform into tiny ponds.
The rest would be muddy.
Secondly, after every one minute or two the bus stops to pick up
passengers. To make matter worse, there is only one bus which plies across
the villages twice, once in the morning and again in the evening. There
will be passengers on the roof of the bus, on railings and on the doorstep
like overhanging trees. It bears an uncanny resemblance to the bus in the
fevicol advertisement.
Nevertheless, this is the major road for many. The road is always
frequented by, apart from too many low-profile officials as well as
villagers, the employers and employees of two famous tea estates. There are
two small wooden bridges over the road which gets damaged after every six
months, as if it was customary. The bridge would remain closed for another
five or six months until essential repair work was carried out. This occurs
particularly in the rainy season when the villagers suffer terribly from
periodic epidemics. During this period, either Nihar has to become an
ingenious cyclist or a ready walker. Rickshawallas could not be convinced
to come down to his village even if he paid them more. The employers and
the employees of the two tea estates would take the national highway itself
for the time being. They love to use the kuchcha road as it is the quickest
route to reach the town.
When Nihar was ten years old, the road was in a bad state. Now he is thirty
five. And it is almost unusable.
Lately Nihar got his post transferred to the college at his
native town. But this could not become a blessing in disguise for him. He
could not think of having the pleasure of doing his job from home. Had he
stayed at his home the road would have always taken the whole of his
energy. The thought of struggling with the road terrified him and compelled
him to take a rented house at the town and drop the idea of staying at
home. But the more he wants to get rid of the road, the more he is
compelled by the circumstances to use it. There are some occasions either
at his home or at his village. He has to come down to his village almost on
a regular basis.
Nihar started his education at his village primary school. Having finished
the fourth standard there, he had to get admitted into the higher secondary
school located at the town where he now lives. From the fifth up to the 12th
standard, he was at that school. He and one of his friends from his village
had to struggle with this road at a stretch for eight years. During those
years, except on Sundays and other holidays, Nihar always arrived back at
his home late in the evening and tired out. He would just keep his old
cycle in the corridor of his house, sit on the permanent bench in the
verandah at least for half-an-hour and then force himself to go straight to
the bathroom. Then he would gulp down the cold rice prepared by his mother
at the usual lunch time and throw himself onto the bed.
Very often his cycle would betray him, as it was a very old one, either in
the form of a puncture or the frequent falling of its stained chain. It was
originally gifted to his father by his grand father. On such occasion Nihar
had to make the best use of his legs, dragging his cycle slowly. And his
friend would also do the same to give Nihar company.
“If I happen to become an MLA, I shall make this road a paved one within a
week,” Nihar’s friend would often say in an over-confident way. At that
Nihar would smile an imperceptive smile. Sometimes Nihar’s father would
say, “Don’t worry. I will buy a new cycle for you. The road will be paved
very soon.” His miserly father did not keep his promise, nor became the
road a paved one.
Nihar’s father said so because the person who was the MLA of the
constituency at that time was well aware of the state of the road. Before
getting elected MLA of the constituency, he was a popular students’ leader.
At the peak of the students’ movement the CRPF jawans were after him. At
that time he was given shelter at Nihar’s village. On many occasions he
came to Nihar’s village, apart from taking shelter there, to address the
huge gathering of the villagers at the village primary school premises. In
his speech he would be furious over the pathetic state of the road. His
fury knew no bounds. So much so that tears would emanate from his cunning
eyes and excitingly assure the villagers that the road would be concrete
very soon, provided he won the election. The chief of the party from which
he stood in the election became the chief minister and he became the
honorable MLA. The villagers cheered. The half kilometer lane leading to
the MLA’s house from the highway had been made concrete within one month of
his term. After becoming MLA he became not only busy, but also prone to
forgetfulness. He forgot to pay a visit to Nihar’s village. What a busy man
he was! How terrible was its resultant forgetfulness! Five years had
passed. The road to Nihar’s village had not received a single grain of
sand.
For the next five years term another person,
who was very close to Nihar’s as well as other surrounding villages, won
the election. He was very close in the sense that he had three brick
factories near Nihar’s village. That time also his party supremo became the
chief minister. Unlike the former MLA he had a spirit of Endeavour. Nihar’s
father would very complacently say, “This time the road will be complete by
all means and it will be a very busy road.” Nihar would lose himself in his
own thoughts. On some occasion he dreamt a dream of the road: The road to
his village was gradually turning into a paved one. With the green fields stretched
out on both sides of it, as it was the autumn season, the road looked so
beautiful. With boundless pleasure he rode his new bicycle presented by his
father on and on. And on the paved road the speed of the new cycle went on
increasing. At last he lost control and his cycle struck a rock. At this
Nihar woke up. What a terribly beautiful dream, he thought. The MLA was
engaged in a bitter struggle with his rivals to get a ministerial berth.
Thus five years passed.
For
the next five years again another former students’ leader emerged as the
new MLA. He was very active. Just after becoming MLA he purchased a large
area of land at Nihar’s village. He started tea gardens. As his tea gardens
increased, his visit to the village ceased and his deputy started coming.
Under his able guidance deforestation was in full swing in the nearby
reserve forest. It was done by a handful of his supporters. Very soon they
became owner of cars and motorcycle of latest model. Their huts transformed
into big and bigger buildings. Unfortunately, during his tenure herds of
wild elephants from the reserve forests started encroaching on human
habitat. This created terror among the people of the villages. These
elephants would come out at night and damage crops and houses alike. As
luck would have it, no one got killed in these incidents. But the elephants
literally killed the road. For some inscrutable reasons, the road remained
the same. Five………years….had…..again…… .passed.
After the active MLA, Nihar’s friend has become the MLA. He was bent on
making the road a paved one. Time and again he declared it. He is from the
same village. He had lost the previous election to the former active MLA by
a very close margin. Three years have already passed. He is very often on
foreign trips and scarcely comes to his village. May be, he loves the roads
of the foreign countries.
By the time Nihar reaches his native town by bus it is three o’ clock in
the evening, the exact time of the bus to his village. Nihar is very happy.
He hurriedly comes to the ticket counter of the bus station to enquire
about the bus to his village. “Today there will be no bus to your village.
Yesterday the bus fell from the wooden bridge on your road into the river.
But nobody died. The bus is still lying there,” the person in the counter
tells Nihar with a slight frown of disapproval. Nihar remains silent for
sometime. But he is bent on going to his home at the village to see his
parents and sisters.
At last he starts the last part of his homeward journey on foot. It is
entirely different from his plane or train journey. After sometime a
nostalgic feeling overtakes him. He determines from the depth of his
soul to live with the road. Despite its pathetic state, he loves it. It
reminds him of his childhood days. His old father is now not in a position
to ride his cycle. An incorrigible optimist, he still hopes for the best
though the road is laughing at him, gnashing its teeth in the form of
potholes.
..........The
writer can be reached : nipam_saikia73@yahoo.co.in
Short
Story
Bhadori
By Lakshminath Bezbarooah
Translated by Dr. Neeva Rani Phukan
"Hey! Bring food. Do you hear? Bring the food!" Saying so
Shisuram put down the plough on the courtyard and changed the wet dhoti
hanging up to his knees in a hurry. On reaching the room where his wife
Bhodori does the cooking he saw that the rice placed over the fire was
still simmering. The curry was yet to be cooked. In other words to say the
leaves of dhekia were laid out in the broad-brimmed bowl to be sliced, the
leaves were yet to be washed clean. Nearly a large curved knife lay up
turned on a piece of banana leaf as like a dead peacock and the mud-smeared
kawoi fishes with smashed heads were quivering like injured drunk
ash-smeared ascetics who had smashed one another's head. Bhodori quickly
heaped firewood into the grate and started blowing it so that the fire
burns brightly. But the damp firewood would not burn. Shisuram was mad with
rage. Since morning he had been irritated for a number of reasons; the
delay in getting lunch at noon added fuel to that fire. The first reason
was this that the previous day Shisu had been on a fast on the occasion of
krishna ekadashi which means that he abstained from ploughing in the fields
that day. Secondly, the sluggishness of his bullocks had been irritating
him since morning. To speak in a nutshell the bullocks were at fault of
lying down on the ground quite frequently while ploughing and in case of
its owner a far greater sin arises for speaking unsanctified words to the
holy animal for the Hindus-the cow! Let others speak whatever they like.
But we are not in the habit of backbiting. We do not wish to speak those
things and keep poor Shisuram starved once more after his fasting during
ekadashi. Neither we have the intension of breaking the good impression of
the bullocks rooted deeply in Bhodori's mind. The third reason need to be
added at this point or else this tale of Shisuram and Bhodori will remain
incomplete. It goes like this----
Bethai Bohuwa had illegally trespassed on Shisuram's plot of land. Both
of them had an argument on this issue in the morning. When the argument was
about to take a rough turn Bethai Bohuwa retreated from the scene. There is
an age-old custom in this strange world that when a man gets irritated
somewhere outside and at someone and if he cannot display his outburst of
anger there and then, he would display his anger on his wife at home and
thus prove his superiority. Shisuram also, was no different than the other
men. Earlier to this incident the mischievous Bethai had humiliated him on
one more occasion. That day, on his arrival at home he thrashed Bhodori
black and blue on the pretext that she had not fumigated the cowshed till
then. We are well informed about this episode too.
Bhodori knew the tyranny of her husband quite too well. She always bore
the brunt of her husband stoically. In fact this belief became deep rooted
in Bhodori's mind that now and then a blow or a slap or a kick or thrashing
by firewood or pedal tooth by the husband is part and parcel of conjugal
life. But there is a reasonable limit of everything. Physical extortion
too, isn't an infinite element like God. Even the rock and soil made body
of mother earth trembles sometimes. In view of this there is no fault if
Bhodori fly into a rage when the limit of tolerance is exhausted.
Ultimately Bhodori shrugged rudely in an unreasonable manner that day due
to the discomfort felt from her inflamed eyes and running nose as a result
of continuously blowing damp firewood.
Shisuram: Hey you, why haven't you finished your cooking till now?
Bhodori: "Shall I cook with my head? Not a single piece of dry
firewood! I am taking pains blowing damp firewood. Is it appropriate to
bluster without knowing rhyme or reason?"
"What did you say, you wretched woman?" Saying so the
infuriated Shisuram hit twice on Bhodori's back with the large curved
knife, which was greedily waiting to suck the blood of the fish. Before he
could hit for the third time his brother Kinaram came running on hearing
Bhodori's shrieks and grabbed Shisuram from behind saying "Hey! Hey
brother! Away, what are you doing!" Saying so he snatched away the
blood smeared knife from Shisuram's hand. Bhodori lay senseless on the
ground bleeding profusely.
Second Chapter
After three days Bhodori regained her sense at the hospital. After
regaining her sense the first question she asked the dresser was, "Where
has he gone?"
The dresser: Who is he?
Bhodori: (A little nervously) My husband.
The dresser: That man is in prison.
Bhodori: Sir, do have him called!
The dresser: What do you mean by have him called here that man cannot come
here now. He has been sent to prison. You relax. No need to worry about
your husband now. If you do so I am sure your ailment will increase.
Hearing the words of the dresser at the hospital Bhodori lost consciousness
once again. At that moment the doctor in charge came in. Hearing about the
condition of the patient from the compounder the doctor understand that
unless Shisuram is brought before her there is little chance of her
improvement in health. Immediately he made arrangements for Shisuram to be
brought from prison.
Third Chapter
This time, on regaining her sense, Bhodori saw Shisuram standing near
her bed between two red-capped constables. Beside them there was the
doctor.
Bhodori: (Looking at Shisuram) How are you? Have you eaten food today? You
are facing problems in having your meals. Isn't it?
In reply tears rolled down Shisuram's cheeks.
Bhodori: (Folding her hands she pleaded to the doctor.) Sir! He is not
guilty, let him free. I beg you, let my husband go free. Wretched me, I
myself tripped and fell upon the large curved knife and cut myself while
going to dress the fish.
The doctor, the dresser as well as the constables, all were astonished to
hear these heart-touching words of Bhodori. Shisuram could restrain himself
no longer and broke down. He started crying, "No sir! It was me who
hit her with a curved knife. Do hang me sir. Sir! I am a great sinner; I
have hit the body of a such virtuous woman."
Conclusion
Within a few days Bhodori was completely curved. But in spite of her
numerous attempts to save her husband from conviction, he was sentenced to
three months rigorous imprisonment. Shisuram directed his steps towards
prison with a smiling face and Bhodori went home weeping. Here ends our
short story.
Notes:
1. Dhekia: A kind of fern, a variety of which is used as a potherb.
2. Kawoi: A kind of muddy water fish; anabas scadens.
3. Krishna ekadashi: The eleventh day of the lunar fortnight.
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