From 3 seats behind, jammed in the middle between two plump passengers, I tilted my head and took a peek at her. The curls of her hair had stood up, thanks to the wind and open windows of the bus. I could make out the corner of her eye, a red rose pimple and a sweaty portion of her face.
“Excuse me”, I heard a grumpy voice and it was the man sitting next to me.
“Do you want to switch seat? He asked, his voice high-pitched, matching his stature. His voice did not match the expression on his face which was a mischievous smile. He then turned to the other side and I knew he was looking at her.
“Your girl?” he queried.
I blushed slightly and shied away. “Soon”, I whispered. “Going to propose her on my next holidays.”
” Where are you working?
For this question, I proudly lifted my head, draining the rose color off my cheeks, spreading a toughness all over. “Army”, I said, “Captain Ranjandas, BSF”, I extended my hand towards him. His face changed from mischief to respect as he shook hand with me. “Nice to meet you”, he replied.
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“Jana”, he heard the voice again. He hated to open his eyes as it was such a beautiful dream. Everything felt like it had happened yesterday. Few seasons have gone by after that and his journey had taken new directions after quite a bumpy ride. But the images were still colorful and stayed the same.
When was the last time he met her? A week before, maybe 2-3 days back but should he care. Days passed, so did weeks and months but it was not a matter of his concern now. Every day was just another day and nothing else.
“Jana, wake up”, the voice again. He lazily opened his eyes. His mother was standing right next to him near his work table. “Another powernap?” she queried as she ran her fingers through his thick and flowing hair. “You need a haircut”, she said nonchalantly as she kept the coffee cup and snacks on the table. Then only did Jana notice that his mother was dressed up. “Where are you off to? He asked, taking the coffee cup in his hand as he snuggled deep into his chair. “Call from the NGO”, she said as she leaned onto the table.
“Seriously ma! On a Sunday”, his voice expressed the anger. “We had plans”
“Yeah, I know. But it is an NGO and I as a responsible person is needed at such odd times, kanna!” she put on a smile as she tried to explain the situation. “By the way, what is this”, she pointed to a partly chiselled wooden block on his table.
“That’s to make a cricket bat for Tarun”. Tarun was the grandson of their neighbour, Kavitha Aunty whom he had known from his childhood days. Aunt’s daughter, Aswani, Mitra and he were child hood playmates who regularly traumatized their mothers by their mischievous tantrums. Aswani was few years older but she was the tom boy and obviously the leader. But now, a matured and talented engineer, an entirely different girl whom he used to know. She had dropped in for a visit with Tarun last week and that was when Tarun expressed the wish for a handmade cricket bat after seeing his carpentry work shop.
Jana knew he was good. It’s been more than a year since he left the army. He had remodelled his dad’s workshop. His dad had also been in the army and carpentry, his holiday hobby. From small wooden artefacts to much bigger crafty works, his father had an expertise in it. He knew he had inherited the same passion from childhood and remembered the times when they both used to sit together and do some work there. Till the major attack that terrorized the country a few years before. His father too was in the team and had went in with a smile but came back draped in the tricolour. He remembered his father’s martyrdom being celebrated, the man who served his country and died for his country. A year later, Jana was posted at Jammu. He had followed his father’s passion completely.
“Where are you, Jana?” his mother brought him back to the present. Jana smiled weakly as his gaze travelled towards the corner wall. His father looked handsome in the uniform and he felt an adrenaline rush as he saw the proud smile glowing on his father’s lips. Unlike the other picture in the living room, he had insisted his mother not to put a garland around the photo. The tricolour was neatly folded and placed on a stand below the pic. His dad’s silent and unseen presence was the only thing that triggered and motivated him now. Nothing else.
“Happy Birthday, Jana”, his mother suddenly shouted, closer to his ears.
“What is the big deal, ma? “ He irked but was surprised when he saw Devamma and Mitra walk in with a cake. Mitra is here and he heard a church bell tolling merrily somewhere inside him. He hid the excitement that bloomed inside him and narrowed his eyes as to maintain the serious composure. He smiled at all of them.
“Thank you”, he muttered as he watched Mitra lay the cake on the table.
Mitra was dressed slightly gaudily. She looked bright in her cream and peach silk salwar which he had gifted during her last birthday. Maybe, another bride seeing process in the morning and the thought made him grim but the very next instant, he covered it up with another plastic smile.
As they sang the chorus which never got into his ears clearly, he cut the cake, unperturbed by all the excitements that happened around him and held out a piece. His mother and Devamma took a bite and gave him back. All these while, from the corner of his eyes, he watched Mitra clicking the pictures.
“For how many more birthdays, Mitra”, he wanted to blast at her for the childishness but controlled his tongue.
“Jana, I am leaving. It’s already late”, his mother told and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Devamma will be here till I come and I do presume Mitra too will be here for a while.” She looked at Mitra and Mitra nodded as she understood the signal in his mother’s voice. He looked at the clock. It was nearly 5 in the evening. Tarun had asked for the bat tomorrow morning. Jana turned towards his table and started chiseling away the wood. He saw his mother and Devamma walk out of the room. Mitra stood on the other end of the table as she watched him work. “You may sit”, he pointed at the chair. She didn’t reply but walked towards the chair and sat. Recently, a wall of silence had started forming between them and they were well aware of it. But Jana knew he was the one who was actively building it. Mitra had tried to stop but had withdrawn gradually after she saw his stubbornness and closed nature.
He then remembered the incident that he dreamed before. He had plans on proposing her on the next holidays but there was never a next holiday. That was his last trip to border and he had returned few weeks later and that too forever.
He shook off his thoughts and continued to work. Suddenly, the chisel slipped and fell on the floor. In a reflex, he tried to bent down and take it. But next moment, he realised the irony. The spine is now erect and the legs numb. How will he pick up the fallen chisel when half his body was glued onto this stupid chair…? He had fallen on the ground that day at the border and after wards, had never felt the ground.
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“Wow! That’s a beautiful piece of art” Surjit exclaimed as he examined the golden band kept inside the box. I smiled at him, feeling happy as my selected choice had been admired.
“From where did you buy this, yaar?”
“Delhi”, I replied and snatched back the box from him. Her image from the bus had been playing inside my mind all the time. That was the first time she had ever accompanied me to the railway station, smiling throughout at me whenever our eyes met and I knew what it was. I had been planning for long but her smile assured me that the time had come. And that consent made me get the band for her.
“I have a surprise”, I had told this to her at the railway station.
“What?” she queried shyly.
“Will tell you on the next holidays.”
“When?” she had asked, a tone of slight despondence in her melodious voice and instantaneously I hugged her and told “Soon”
“Bhai, Where are you?” Surjit knocked me on the head and that brought me back to where I was. At the border, chatting with my friend, proudly showing off the ring that will make her solely mine. I looked at the box that held the ring. It was a walnut box ornate with gold and silver embossing outside. The ring was magnificent but the box that held it was equally stunning. I played the episode of proposal that I had imagined, in my head all over once more. “Bhai, you are really lucky”, I heard Surjit say and I beamed in joy. Yes, I was and forever will be. I believed so.
My thoughts were interrupted by a thunderous noise from outside followed by the noise of a shower of gunshots. “Bhai, we need to go”, I heard Surjit say and I immediately tucked the ring inside my backpack and rushed outside, along with him.
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Jana shuddered. The images were still vivid. After all, he was not really that lucky as Surjit had told. A time has come in his life that Jana loved to believe death was better than life. Death was the freedom that he never got but received a life imprisonment, getting stuck onto the stupid wheel chair. He yearned to stand on his legs which he knew he never could and he was angry. Fate had ruined him, his life and he had to let go the dreams that he had dreamt to transform into reality.
“I am not helpless”, he convinced himself. Jana tightened his grip on the armrest of his wheel chair. His face muscles also tightened with beads of sweat rolling off the edges as he tried hard to push himself up. But the backward pull from the rest of his lifeless body was stronger. “I shall win today”, he muttered as he increased the force. A spasm of pain seeped through his arms and back, till where he could feel and he groaned in pain. He could hear Mitra walking towards him, the twinkling sound of her anklets increasing as she came closer. Suddenly he withdrew himself back into the chair and the next instant pushed with all his might.
“Jana…” he heard her muffled voice. Her arms were around him but he refused to help himself get off the ground. The chisel was lying at an arm distance from him. He struggled to get out of her arms and reached out for the chisel. “The ground is too cold. I can feel it”, he lay back on the ground. He closed his eyes as he lay on the ground, resting his head on her lap, with the chisel held tightly in his right hand. He listened her cry: her hushed voice, her fast breath, the tired sighs and then he imagined her face.
“What happened to us?” he heard her ask but opted not to reply. She was warm and he felt the comfort he had lost all the way while laying his head on her lap. This warmth which could never be mine, he thought.
A little later, Jana finally opened his eyes and looked at her. She had wiped away her tears but sadness emanated all over her face.
“Where is my birthday gift?” Jana queried faking a curious tone in his voice. She laughed weakly and then took his head as she tried to stand. With all her might that she had in her, she helped Jana get back into the chair. “Again, you imprisoned me”, Jana told. She did not utter a word in reply but pushed his wheel chair towards the balcony door. She went ahead and opened the door. As soon as she opened the door, the evening rays gushed in t the rom as if they were waiting impatiently outside, waiting to enter. Jana turned his face away as he was not used to this light. He hated it now. The warmth of the air, the evening sun, the wind and the merry voices which he heard from outside: he hated everything. He was happy in his secluded world: the darkness of his room which had slowly begun to seep and blanket his mind, the stuffy smell of his workshop mainly because he had ceased to open the windows and the balcony. He was too used to it. The seclusion and loneliness owned him completely and he had left everything…and everyone. His friends from the army, the caring neighbours and even her. All for good, he made himself believe it.
“Jana”, she called him. “What were you thinking?” she asked.
“Nothing. I was thinking about the life of men like me”, he lied.
“What is there to think about?” she asked. She leaned towards the iron railings .Her curly hair was left open and he saw the light seeping in through her hair, shivering as her hair danced along with the cool breeze.
“What is there to think about, Jana”, she asked again, her voice a little irritated by the fact that he was too immersed into himself.
“Nothing, Mitra”, he looked into the infinite and cleared his voice. “If we die, our martyrdom is celebrated and we are remembered. I am not dead but a living dead and even I don’t want to remember what I was or what I am now.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Now, buried beneath the tricolour are my dreams, Mitra. My mother’s dreams too”, his voice was a little husky and he tried hard to control his tears.
Mitra walked towards him and then pushed his wheel chair out into the balcony.
“The four walls of the house and the closed windows of this workshop have inched inside you, Jana. And it have grown, rooted to the deep and I can feel the concrete walls around your heart”
He didn’t say anything because whatever she said was the truth. And the truth hurts.
“Why the hell do you care, Mitra? You are richer than me, girl. You got legs and you can walk. You have a life of your own. But look at me. I need someone to help me even to pee.” Jana blasted.
Mitra listened without saying anything. Then she went towards him and knelt down in front. She wiped the few tears that have managed to escape from his eyes with her shawl.He pushed her hands away and looked down.
“Jana, we think we don’t have anything even if we have the comfort to live. We mourn and lament on the happiness we wish to have but forget to be happy with whatever we have.”
“Go away, Mitra”, he snapped
“You are pushing me away from you for long just because of the fact that you do care about me. I can feel it even if it is hidden inside that four great walls you created.” he lifted his face and looked at her.
“You know”, she smiled mischievously. “I am done waiting”, he looked at her doubtfully. “This is my birthday gift for you” saying this she then reached for her salwar pocket.
“Will you marry me?” she took out the ring and extended towards him.
“What?” he shouted as he switched his gaze between her and the ring.
“Happy Birthday Jana…” she hugged him and then backed off to maintain her one knee down posture, pasting an appeasing and equally pleading look on her face, not hiding her mischievous smile. He continued to remain on his no noise mode and this made Mitra a little bit irritated.
“You know, I have been waiting to hear from you for long. Do you remember that time when I accompanied you till the railway station, 2 years before? You had told me that on your next visit you will be coming with a surprise”.
“Yeah, but….” He was still in shock.
“But things didn’t turn out well and you were hospitalised for long. After all the turmoil’s were over, I continued to wait for the surprise. But then you switched into this sober and secluded mode and then I felt lonely. Come on, Jana. Is that what you thought about me? That I will leave you like this and go on to enjoy another happy life which you think I would have.”
“No”, he felt his throat tighten as she searched for the right words. “I can’t give you anything in return, Mitra. I can’t give everything that a woman want from her man”
“But I need you, Jana. I want you as my man for the rest of my life. For you were there till now and you should be there till the story ends.” she continued “Dreamt this scene the other way around but no issues. Someone has to take the initiative if the other one is shy”, she broke into a laughter. Jana noticed how radiant and beautiful she was and cursed himself for being in his sober mood which pushed her into the same mood whenever she was with him. He leaned in and joined her laughter, enjoying the moment, holding onto it and forgetting all the sorrows that held him down. As the laughter died down, he walked back into the reality and then the irony hit him again. He was stuck onto his chair for the rest of her life and her joining him would make him a liability and not a lifelong asset of happiness for her. The very realisation made him writhe in pain. Meanwhile, she hadn’t noticed the change of mood in the air but continued to be in the fun mood.
“Come on! Say YES.” She leaped in joy. “My knees are hurting and I do presume girls are not used to doing this.” He knelt down and kissed her on the head. Steering his wheel chair away, he moved towards the balcony and started watching the setting sun. She felt confused by his action. Suddenly he pointed towards his father’s picture and the tricolour folded on the stand under.
“Buried under the tricolour is my dream, Mitra. The last remains of a very beautiful dream”
She didn’t understand and felt pointless for a second. She repeated the entire episode again in her mind. And then it hit her, the whole meaning hidden in his words. She looked at him and saw that he was still watching the sunset. Without wasting another second, she immediately rushed towards the corner of the wall which held his dad’s picture and the flag stand. Panting with tension and a slight anticipation, she slowly lifted the flag off the shelf.
Buried under the tricolour, she saw his dream. A hand carved walnut box embossed with silver and golden sequences. Slowly, she opened the box. A 2-year-old ring gleamed in joy as it met the person it had been waiting for long.
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-durga
Image Courtesy:Google Images