PAST, IS NOT ALWAYS PAST

It was after tenure at a hard area that I got my transfer to Bangalore. Hard area, we called in our military terms, for places where living was not ordinarily comfortable. The uncomfortable nature might be due to extreme bad weather or the place being at a remote hilly area or sometimes in the border area. When one completed the tenure there, he would usually be given certain preferences and privileges. One such preference was that he could get a posting to a place of his choice. I preferred Bangalore because that was the nearest place from my home in Kerala, to where I could get a posting. Another privilege was that you could get quarters to stay with family, superseding the waiting list for allotment. This consideration was given, as the person was likely to be staying alone in the hard area without the comfort of his family.

I had gone on transfer to the hard area just fifteen days after my marriage and the area was considered so hard that the tenure was limited to just one year. I knew earlier itself that I would have to move to the hard area immediately after marriage. My parents tried to dissuade me from marriage and to wait for completion of that tenure, but I insisted. I was already decided on whom to marry and therefore, I did not want to risk that possibility by postponing the marriage. My parents agreed, and I got married. On expiry of the leave period, I proceeded alone to the remote place to where I was posted. Honeymoon days were spent by us in isolation.

I was very happy when I got my posting to Bangalore, after a long wait of one year. Immediately on arrival at Bangalore, I was allotted with a newly white washed quarters for my stay with family. That was the first time for me to start living with my wife. A quarter was a single unit among eight or ten such units in a block and there would be similar blocks all over the area. Like the abundant flats growing up like mushrooms in the present days. The blocks were in two floors. People usually preferred the bottom floor as they would get a little ground space for gardening or cultivation of vegetables, apart from getting rid of the burden of climbing up and down the stairs. Even with the preference from hard area, it usually took a few weeks to get the allotment. But I got it immediately on my arrival and that too in the ground floor itself without any effort. I felt that I was lucky. Being a beginner to the family life, we did visit our neighbours to acquaint ourselves as also to know them in return. I expected visits back, but none was to come for a few days.

One day, returning from my office, I found my wife in an uneasy mood. I enquired why she looked uncomfortable. She said she was feeling afraid to stay in the home alone in the nights. I could not understand. My work necessitated me to undertake night shift duties quite often and she had been staying in the nights alone on such days. Never did she make any complaint on that. She knew that it was a camp area and there was nothing to worry. No chance for any burglars and there would be many to respond from nearby houses incase an alarm is raised. Patiently, I asked what disturbed her mind. And then she told me about the visit of one of our neighbours.

The neighbour woman had enquired about her well being in general and asked her whether she was feeling uncomfortable during the nights when I was away. My wife had replied that she was quite comfortable and found no scope for any fear when there were so many families living nearby. The woman was not to leave her at that. She wanted to know whether she heard any sounds at any time during the nights or whether she felt any unusual things happening or saw any shadows passing by. That raised the curiosity in my wife. She asked her what she meant by that. The woman replied that our quarters had been lying vacant for many days as none was willing to take it. The woman who stayed earlier had committed suicide by pouring kerosene and blazing herself. The walls were blackened completely and that was the reason it was white washed afresh. All in the camp knew of the incident and so no one was willing to stay there even when offered out of turn. That was when we came with our preference for out of turn allotment. “If nothing had happened so far, may be nothing would happen in future also”, the woman had consoled generously before leaving.

The kerosene had been anyway poured into my wife’s mind too, I thought. A small incident would be sufficient to ignite it at any time.

I picked up and carried forward further on those consolation words of the woman. I said to my wife that we had been staying thus far without any problems. “That poor unfortunate woman might have ended up her life for reasons best known to her. Let us not say a word to any one which might turn out to be of blaming her even after her death. If others were afraid, let them be. We had been staying for many days and we knew that there was nothing to be worried of”, I tried to pacify my wife.

Nevertheless, the next day morning I went to the officer who was in charge of the allotment of quarters. I complained that my ignorance of the incident had been taken advantage of by him. He said that the quarter could not have been left idle like that for long. At the same time, he did not want to force it on any one who knew of the incident. So, he had been waiting for some one from outside to come with a preferential allotment. He repeated the same words that the woman had said to my wife and in turn I had also said. “You had been staying already for many days and you did not feel any discomforts. So, why do you worry now? Nothing would happen. Just leave that unnecessary fear from your mind. That was all required”, he consoled.

In my boyhood, I had read a lot of ghost stories. When the subject of ghosts came within our discussion, I always tried to maintain to my friends that those were only stories and nothing of that sort could really exist. One of my friends never agreed to what I said and explained to me that there were many people near his home who experienced the ghost effect. He challenged me to visit a particular spot near his home in the dead of night and experience myself if I had any doubt. He told that once a lady appeared in white dress before a lonely person there and beckoned him to follow her. The next day the fellow was found lying unconscious and when he came to his senses he narrated the incident. He said that people were afraid to walk there alone in the night, after that. I dismissed his arguments by telling him that the story would always end like that. People would see ghosts in the form of ladies only and never in the form of gents. And that too in white dress alone. “Why do they not wear colour dress?” I queried. Prompt was his reply. “They might be coming in colour dress also. But when they wanted you to see them, they would come in white”, he said. I did not take up his challenge. He would never agree even if I went alone because I would not be able to prove that I was alone. I did not believe in ghosts. And that was all. I did not want to prove anything to anybody.

The night duty days were no more peaceful to my wife. When I returned, she would tell me that a dog has been groaning in a peculiar sound through out the night. Or, she would have heard the walking steps of a person nearby. I realized that she was getting too much frightened in my absence in the night. I tried to convince her as much as I could that it was all her imaginations. “You did not hear any such sounds earlier”, I reminded her. “It was all a consequence of that neighbour woman’s visit”, I told to myself and to her also.

The nights on which my duty fell turned out to be too dreadful and horrifying to her. She would tell me that she was sitting all through the night wide awake and praying to God. By then, she had been carrying our first child also. I could not allow her to live a frightened life, in that stage, particularly. When I returned from the duty, I could see that she was far more tired than me. I could read it on her face. I had to think of a solution. I approached my boss and narrated my problems. I requested him earnestly to relieve me from the night duties. He took a sympathetic view of the situation. He agreed, but said that it would be only for two months. “By that time you should be able to clear the fears from her mind”, he advised. “I can’t go on relieving you. Others would complain”, he justified his stand. At least two months relief I got, I thought. That itself was great of him.

My wife was very happy to hear that I would not be going for the night duties. I was to educate her now. Two months time for the course. Till late night, I would keep our doors wide open and chat with her, sitting on the door steps and looking out in the dark. I would take her out for a walk in the nights. I wanted to show her that there was nothing to worry about. I explained to her that in many quarters, the women would be sitting alone in the nights. There might be deaths happened in those quarters also in any of the yester years, which we were not to know. “Had the woman not visited and told you on that incident, you would have been living as peaceful as earlier”, I tried to convince. I promised her that there after when I go for night duties, I would come back the moment my work was over. Yes, I could do that. My work in the night was to ensure proper functioning of the radio communications at the Air Traffic Control, when there would be practice sorties in the night.  I could shut down the equipments and pack up when the practice sorties were over. I told her that she would know when I would be coming back, if she listened to the sound of roaring flights taking off and landing back quite frequently. When the sound died down for a longer time, she could be sure that the sorties were over and that I would be returning. It normally lasted up to midnight and some times to early morning. People on duty would lie down and take rest at the duty place itself after that, till the day broke up. But, I would come back the moment it was over, I decided. I was successful in instilling confidence in my wife by the two months granted to me.

The practice sorties were over by midnight, when I went for my first night duty after the two months break. I decided to keep my word and returned home immediately after the work. It was a cycle which I always used for my conveyance. I was pedaling back to home. There was a square turning when I reach about 50 meters to my quarters. Once I took the turning, I would be able to see my quarters clearly. It was a normal practice with me to look at my quarters immediately after the turn. And when I looked at my quarter that night after the turning, I found that my wife was sitting on the door steps with the doors wide open. That was the place where we would be sitting till late night, chatting. The lights inside were on. She had grown courageous now, I thought. She knew that I would come back and she might be waiting for me to come, without going to sleep. Raising her head, she looked at me. Then, she stood up.

Reaching near the quarter, I applied breaks and looked up at the quarter again. Suddenly the lights inside had disappeared. It was all dark everywhere. The doors were tight closed. What happened? I wondered. Why did she close the doors when she saw me? Why did she put off the lights? Failing to find an answer, I rang up the bell. There was no response. I rang up again, for a longer time. I could hear her moving in the bed. The lights were put on and she opened the doors. She was wearing a maxi. I had seen her wearing a sari, a white one, which she possessed and wore quite frequently. How could she change over to maxi so fast and that too in the dark? She did not look uncomfortable. I asked her what she had been doing after I went for duty. She said that she closed the doors and lied down and she didn’t know when she slept. All that she knew was that she was in a deep slumber till I rang up the bell.

Then, was it my imagination that I saw? I re-winded the cassette recorded by my eyes and played it back again in my mind. Yes, I had seen my wife only. I could make out that clearly from that distance. She had raised up her head and looked at me and got up from there. If it was not my wife, then who was that I saw. Suddenly, I remembered the confident and sure words from my old friend, “They might be coming in dark dress also. But when they wanted you to see them, they would come in white”. What did she want me to see? That she was guarding my wife when I was away?

I looked at my wife. She had already resumed her peaceful slumber.

Years later, and after I left the service and started staying safely in my own home, I narrated the incident to my wife. She wouldn’t believe. She had turned out to be more mature than me. She said that it was all my imagination. “Yes, yes, it could be only an imagination. Everything that we see before our eyes could also be only an imagination. We would know when we die, that this life itself was only an imagination, like a dream lost.” I retorted back in anger.

- - - -

Mysterious are the ways of mind…mysterious is death...and mysterious this Universe ..

THAT GIRL WITH STRAWBERRY CHEEKS

Chandigarh, I think, was the best place I ever lived in. The city is beautiful. It had been so even the time when I was there, way back in the middle of seventies. I was stationed at a place a little away from Chandigarh. It was called Chandimandir, known by the name because of a popular temple there. I was a very young man then and often roamed around in my holidays. Free times were plenty even on working days. I used to participate in the outdoor games such as foot ball and volley ball. I was a voracious reader too. In the evenings, till late night, I would indulge in reading. Apart from magazines, I used to read books that were available in abundance in the camp library. There was enough time and space to stretch out my desires and aspirations. And that was one reason for my liking the days in Chandigarh.

Panchkula, a small town situated on the road to Chandigarh, was only at a distance of two kilometers from our camp. Before the night threw its blanket, it was usual for me to make a walk upto Panchkula. The town was quite calm and peaceful with a few shops run by, mostly, the local villagers. There was no much hustle and bustle. It was a village town. But, now the city has engulfed this tiny village too in its fold.

The road to Panchkula was slightly slope upwards and the climbing gave me a good exercise. Walking back was easier. Shopping was not an intention, but I used to buy some fruits at times as an additional diet to what I ate from the camp mess hall. My physical activities and exercises, I considered, necessitated a little extra diet to maintain my vigour. There weren’t many fruit shops, and I used to visit the one with maximum varieties. Fruits are nutritious. But the nutritious value can differ from fruit to fruit in different aspects. Therefore, I thought that it would be better to buy a different variety each time. And I preferred to buy from the same shop each time so that I would get a consideration in price as well as in quality, for being a regular customer.

The shop I frequented was run by a middle aged couple. With a few days shopping, I became their friend. There were different varieties of fruits in the shop such as apples, strawberries, oranges, grapes etc. They would welcome me, smiling. I knew they liked my visit, not because of the business prospects alone. Perhaps they were amused at the way I talked Hindi or at my habit of changing variety each time. The shopping began to take more and more time. They would offer me a stool to sit and then we would start chatting. I found that there were only few customers for them. Might be that the customers were less at dusk during the time when I visited. I had the feeling that they were keeping the shop open at that time only for the sake of me. They could have closed early, as the customers were few. One day, after chatting, I took leave and was on the move when they called up and reminded me about buying the fruits. Then I realized that buying fruits was no more the priority in my visit to the shop. It was very interesting to talk with them. They were very natural ordinary village folk with an innocent mind and talking with them was a change for me. They were staying in a small house, just behind the shop. The house and the shop were in one piece and allowed easy access from one to the other.

They had only one daughter. She would occasionally come from inside and talk to her parents. Her voice was sweet. I noticed that she was extremely beautiful. She was in her teens. Her face was almost round. Her cheeks were reddish, like the strawberries. She was fair and her hairs were curly. Her hands were full of bangles. She wore anklets too. She was always in dark colourful attire, mostly red. She kept giggling most of the time she came before me. The sound of her bangles and anklets heralding her appearance would often raise my heart beats. She never talked to me, but I felt that her eyes did. I enjoyed the company of the family. It was like a home, far away from my home. But, things were not to last long.

One day, as usual, I was walking up to visit them. I was a little delayed due to some work and at first I had thought of skipping the walk. But then I changed my mind. It gave me immense pleasure and happiness to be in their company for a while. I did not want to miss it even for a day. And yes, she was also an inspiration. I didn’t want to miss seeing her giggling. I couldn’t skip the visit.

 The road to the town was often deserted. Vehicles also were not frequent and therefore I could afford to walk through the road. I knew the speed of vehicles there and always kept a safe distance from the road at the sound of a vehicle.

 As I stood aside hearing the sound of a vehicle, I found a lorry recklessly running to the same direction to which I was walking. It was running in a zigzag manner without the driver having any control. Any one could guess that the driver must be heavily drunk. And I proceeded walking. The lorry went out of sight. As I walked for a few minutes more, I found an apple rolling down the road to me. I picked it up. Then, I found that more apples were rolling down. What was happening? Wondering, I looked ahead and found that people from nearby were running to the town. Something had gone wrong. I dropped the apple and ran up. I could see the lorry, that passed by me, was standing there. It was standing off the road. I went on running till I reached the spot. The lorry had smashed the fruit shop in total. The fruits were scattered everywhere and some were rolling through the road. I thought of the family who were friends with me. Their shop was smashed, but I hoped that they could be sometimes inside the house. Finding me not in time, they might have closed the shop early. I wanted to enquire about them, but all were completely under the impact of the shock and totally absorbed in anxiety. I could hear people telling that five were dead.

Looking at the other side, I could see five bodies laid down by the side of the road. With shivering feet, I slowly walked to the bodies. My worst fears proved true. The girl was lying between her parents and all were dead. My heart missed its beat for a moment. With a shock, I imagined that I would also have been lying by their side dead, if I had not been late that day.

With a heavy heart, I slowly walked back to the camp.

In my childhood, I had asked my grandmother why there were so many stars in the sky. She had replied that when we die, we turn out as stars and shine in the sky. She said that the stars there in the sky were all people who were already dead. And I believed.

On the way back, I stood for a while and looked up at the sky. I saw the stars. She might be giggling at me from among the stars, I supposed.

Life sometimes is too short for some and sometimes too long for some.

I stopped my evening visits to Panchkula, thereafter.

- - - -

A DAY IN THE MENTAL WARD

In the military, a person is liable to be sent for any type of duty at any place or time, apart from the normal duties assigned to him. And the training given makes him mentally and physically fit to undergo any hardship. Obey the orders with out any questions. That is the dictum and that is the discipline required. And it should be so, for a force to act.

One day, I, along with another, was assigned to attend a patient admitted in the mental ward in the military hospital. Our duty was only to sit in guard for him for a day, lest he might escape or run away. After our turn, another two would take our place on the day next. We were briefed that the patient is generally normal but could turn violent at any time. His mental state was that he would either be very calm and silent and that might change into violence if provoked. When he wanted to go to toilets we should escort him to there and stay near the door till he came out and then escort him back to his room. Two were detailed so that we could also respond to the call of nature, in turn. Other than for such exigencies, we both should be available at all times guarding him. Our duty would end the next day when we would be replaced by another two.

Reaching at the hospital, which was a few kilometers away from the camp, I made a physical assessment of the person. I should know how best I would be able to handle him in case required. He was taller than me and looked stouter too. I would definitely be not able to handle him alone. I was sure that it would be the case with my partner too. So, I told my partner that we would as far as possible remain together, with out one leaving the other. And even when we were to go for the call of nature, we should make sure that we come back at the earliest. I had the feeling that we would not be able to handle him even together, in case he turned violent. All that I could do was to hope that he remained calm till our duty finished the next day.

My partner did not heed well to my advice. He found some reason to skip off every now and then. Okay, I thought. It was only for a day. I would somehow manage. I could shout and call for help in case required. If any untoward incident happened, we both would be held responsible. I thought my partner was willing to share the consequence of that rather than bearing the bore of sitting there.

Sitting alone, I looked at the man inside the room. I found that he was constantly watching me. I shifted my eyes from him for a while and again looked at him only to meet his stare again. Was he taking a physical assessment of me in return? I doubted. I didn’t know whether I should talk to him or whether I should remain silent. One thing I knew. I should not provoke him to anger in any manner. I was unable to anticipate what his reaction would be in case I talked. I tried to maintain a blank look on my face and remained silent. I was only carrying out my duty. So, I decided to remain impersonal and indifferent. But at the same time I had to be alert on his moves. I looked at him again. He was still staring at me. This time he invited me to the room. “Come inside and sit”, He said. Should I go inside? I did not know. I looked through the corridor. There was none. “Come on man”, he again called out. This time it was a little louder, like a command. I should not provoke him. “Don’t be afraid. I am normal”, he assured. “Just come in and sit so that we can talk”. Yes, he appeared normal. Come what may. I took the chair inside and sat before him.

He narrated his story which led to his admission there. It was a dream for him to become a commissioned officer. In the spare time he got, he studied well and prepared for the test. Twice he failed in his attempt. But he took each defeat as a challenge and continued his efforts. He was determined. And finally, he did succeed and got selected. He felt as if he had conquered the whole world. His delight was so high that while celebrating it with his friends, and in a moment of frenzy, he jumped off from the roof of a two storey building from where he conducted the party. He got his legs broken. With that fall, it was not his legs alone that broke, but his dreams too. He was physically and mentally found unfit to be a commissioned officer in the final round. “You may achieve any thing, but never should you feel pride”, he advised. “Never get carried away by the praises of others. That would only ruin you”, He continued. “Realise that you are nothing if not for the grace of the Almighty”, He went on and on…. And I listened without interrupting and without uttering a word. Not because I was afraid of him, but because there was wisdom in what he talked. My tension got relieved to a great extent. I felt that I need not worry about him any more. He was quite normal. There was nothing to worry.

I had been sitting with the patient for quite a long time, when my partner returned after a long round around. I thought that it was my turn now to relax a little. He agreed and I went out for a tea and a smoke. The patient would be served his food timely, but we had to get it from outside.

As I went out, I decided that I would also take a long time to return.  I was by now confident of the patient and therefore I thought I could afford to do that. I should teach my partner a lesson. What did he think of me? Was I a fool to do the duty alone, when he was also equally responsible? I took my time to come back.

Entering the gate on return, I found my partner going out in a hurry. He was looking worried. Why was he coming out when he was supposed to be with the patient? I called out to him. He looked at me. There was tension written all over his face. He said that while he went to the urinal for a moment, the patient had slipped away. He was looking all around to see whether the patient was standing any where. Oh, hell. Now, I had it. I was also equally responsible. It was dereliction of duty and nothing short. More than that, I was worried on what he would do and where he had gone. He could turn violent at any time and we would only be held responsible for any violence he might do. Should we go back and report that he escaped from the hospital? Wouldn’t it be our own admission of our failure? What reason would we say? Sometimes, like us, he might also have gone out for a smoke and then would return, I hoped. We decided not to report the matter immediately. If at all he got caught before our reporting, we would say that we were in search of him in the nearby areas. We would try to convince that getting him was more important than reporting as he could turn violent at any time. And we kept on searching in the nearby areas. Was he fooling me with all those stories of his lost dreams? I wondered…

Resigning from the search operations, we returned disappointed and dejected. It was better to report the matter any way. We deserved what was to come. We should see whether he carried his bag too, before deciding on the hope of his coming back. The bag which contained his few dress was lying in a corner of the room. If that was also taken, we could be sure that he had gone with no intention to return.

Alas! As we neared the door, we found the man calmly lying down on his cot. I heaved a sigh of relief. I asked him where was he in the meantime. He said that after I left, he remembered that it was the day for taking his payment. And he had to buy the ration and give to his home. He said he went to the camp, collected his payment, bought the ration, gave it to his family and then returned. He was speaking all that very calmly, without any thrill of an adventure. He talked as if it was just a natural and reasonable thing to do. I was mesmerized. Was he speaking truth? Couldn’t any one at the Account Section or at the Ration shop noticed that he was a mental patient? Perhaps, he could be true. Camp is a place where plenty live and it was not necessary that all would know each other.

As polite as possible, I expressed my grievance to him for not taking us into confidence before he proceeded. “You knew very well that we are responsible for you. Didn’t you?” I asked. “Yes, Yes. I knew. But would you have allowed me, if I asked?”  He threw the question with a laugh.

I was wide awake that night. No more taking chances. I was not to decide whether he was sane or insane. I handed over the charge to my relievers, on the next day.

Back at the camp, I made an enquiry through my friends at the Account Section. Yes, he had signed for and taken his pay. I paid a curtsey visit to his home. His wife seemed to have no worries. She never knew that he was in the mental ward. All she knew was that he had gone for the periodical medical review of his leg injuries. I told her that I had seen him in the hospital the other day and that he was recovering fast. “Yes, Yes. He is quite okay. He came yesterday and bought the ration rice, vegetables and other items required till his discharge.” She said.

I took leave of her and walked off.

                                                                     - - - - 

A MESSIAH IN BLACK COAT

Some memories keep haunting you. It comes back in your mind as a reminder, instilling a confidence in you in difficult times and guiding you in your course of action.

Traveling by rail might be a pleasure for those who have got their reservation done in advance; but for others it would often turn out to be a bitter experience. More so, if one has more luggages to carry and the distance is far. While in Delhi, in the early seventies, we would often proceed to the railway station with durries in our hands on the previous night itself to ensure a front position in the queue before the reservation counter which would open at 8 AM next day. We would spread out the durries in a line in front of the counter and sleep there till next day morning. We, a few friends, often planned our leave period in advance to travel together to enjoy the comfort of a company during the tedious journey of three days from Delhi to Kerala. Trains were much less.The reservation could be done sixty days in advance and one had to be at the counter exactly sixty days in advance, to at least entertain a hope in his mind of traveling in reserved coach. A day less, and there would be no scope for any hope. I still remember those days while I do the reservation now at the click of a mouse enjoying the comfort of home.

Days in my military life were really hard. It was at a very short notice that one would get an order to move from one place to the other, far away. Some times it would be on temporary duties or else it would be a regular transfer itself with out a comeback. When you get an order to move, you move. No excuses. You might have set other plans. Change them. Your personal problems were immaterial. That was the life in military.

On a day while stationed at Nagpur, I was ordered to proceed to Pune on the next day itself. It was on a temporary duty that would run for a period of two months. I was living in a barrack, the accommodation for those who stayed single. It would be a long hall, with cots put along both sides with the centre space left out for movements. We would keep our trunk box underneath the cots, which would usually contain mainly the uniform articles.  Durries and a blanket on the cot with white sheet spread over it comprised our bedding. Civil dresses were not much in use, so I used to have only one or two pairs of them. I was to carry all these things to Pune next day. I couldn’t leave anything behind, lest it might not be available when I returned. More over, there was nothing to be left behind as I would require every thing at the new station. So, there was a trunk, a bed holder and a small air bag to be carried with me. The free railway warrant for the travel was given to me on the previous day itself. I had to get it exchanged. There would always be a long queue. So, I had to be at the station much earlier to the departure of the train.

I had a hard time pulling my luggage along with me in the queue for getting the warrant exchanged. The queue was quiet long as usual. After getting the warrant exchanged, I carried my luggage to the plat form. The bed holder was on my left shoulder which I supported with the left hand and the heavy trunk was carried with the right hand. The air bag hanged from my left shoulder. It was not in my nature to avail the luxury of engaging a porter. I was strong enough to carry my luggage. And I was always reluctant to spend money, if avoidable. Live with in my limits. That was my policy.

The platform was full with people. It was only about an 18 hour journey, but the night had to be completely spent in the train. The general compartments were of no hope as the rush was so high. Perhaps, I thought, I would be able to enter the military compartment, if there was one. But, where would it be positioned? I had no idea. I could not move around and make enquiries as I had to carry the luggage too. The announcement was made. People who were earlier sitting also got up and thronged to fight and make their way into the compartment. I could also have tried, if only the luggage was less. I was not in a position to move at all with my luggage in the rush; then what to talk of fighting my way into the compartment when both my hands were engaged. No chance. I wondered on what I would explain to my higher-ups if my journey got delayed. Train rush would never be accepted as an excuse. I was sure that I would be considered as intentionally absented with out leave and the punishments would automatically follow.

The train arrived and the fight started. I didn’t know what to do. People were rushing in through every door. Some were rounding up the TTEs, who were struggling to make a move with their chart boards in hand. There was no way for me to make an approach. I should not be carried off in the rush. I had to keep an eye on my luggage too. Totally disillusioned and helpless, I stood watching the crowd. Tension was mounting in me. Minutes passed. The whistle was blown. The train was about to make the move. Oh God! What a predicament I was in!  The train would move now, leaving me behind with my luggages. Entry through all the doors of the nearby compartments got blocked with people hanging, taking support on what ever handles or bars their hands could reach. I knew that the things would only get repeated, even if I waited for a day more. Unable to move a bit and in my desperation, I realized that tears were filling my eyes.

Then, it happened. I found a man in a black coat calling out to me from a compartment ahead. No, he could be calling for some one else. I looked behind, but found none paying any attention to his call. I looked at him again. Yes, he was gesturing to me only. He was beckoning me to go to him. Without losing a moment, I got on the move to him with my luggages. There was none near the door other than him. He helped me to push the trunk inside. I threw the bed holder inside. The train, by then, started moving. With the bag on my shoulder, I ran up along with the train, caught hold of a handle and jumped inside. Thank God, I was in now. It did not matter to me even if I had to travel standing all the night.

To my surprise, I found that it was not an ordinary compartment that I was in. There were only a few berths and I quickly realized that it was meant for the train staff. The TTE pointed at a berth and told me that I could settle there. He was wearing a black fur cap. I saw that he was baldy, when he removed his cap and dried his eyes with a clean white towel which he pulled out from his pocket. I put my trunk underneath the seat and unrolled my bed holder on the berth. Thinking of my luck, I slowly stretched out my body on it. I did not know how to thank the man. He had gone to the other side. I waited for him to come again so that I could pay him what ever the charges he demanded. I was ready to pay anything, keeping a little amount for the auto fare from the station to the camp. Inside the camp, there was no need for any money. Food and accommodation would be free. I could even seek an advance from my next month’s pay. And I waited for him…until my eyes closed in a deep and peaceful slumber.

I woke up late in the morning. I remembered the man and raised my head to see where he was. I could not find him. I got down from the berth and wondered why no one came in the night to check even my ticket. I found a man in black coat sitting near a window seat, but he was a different person. He just looked at me and then continued to look at the sights outside. Might be that he had replaced my friend in the night. Might be that the new comer was briefed about me. All that I knew was that the new comer was also equally not bothered about my presence in their privacy.

Comfortably, I got down at Pune. I was thinking on the mystery or rather my luck, without getting an answer to the puzzle. Why did the TTE call me, when there were many others like me left behind? It was not for money. I was sure of that. The man never knew me before. I picked up my luggage and moved. No, I could not move. The puzzle was haunting my mind badly. I kept the luggage down and decided to sit for a while.

Then, somewhere at the back of my mind, I remembered the words from the Bible. To the hungry, God comes in the form of bread…. Yes, that could be it… God might have seen my plight and came to me in a black coat…

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THE IDIOT BOX

THE IDIOT BOX

The first time I saw a television set was when I joined Indian Air Force in 1970. On the first day itself, I found a crowd of people sitting in the recreation hall in our camp watching a small screen. I did not know then that it was a television set. I wondered why the screen was so small. I looked back to see the projector room and the rays coming from it, as happens in a cinema hall.  But, there were none. I could not ask anyone on the mystery as all were sitting or standing with their eyes glued on the screen. The recreation hall was full. I too joined them deciding to enjoy what was on the screen, rather than worrying about how it happened. Later, I learned from my friends that I was watching a television screen. I had a fare idea on what a television was from my readings; but never did I expect that I would be able to set my eyes on it. It was a great adventure for me and my first letter to home had carried the story in all its glory.

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Years later, I got married. By the time I left Air Force after my initial term of engagement and got re-employed near my home town, I was father to two kids.

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Frankly, it was not in my nature to wish for something that was not affordable. A television set remained unaffordable to me even after two decades of my first adventure of having seen one. Unaffordable in the sense that I felt it was not wise to invest a big amount just for the luxury of it; considering my financial prospects in those days. Not only that, I was cautious more on its disadvantages rather than advantages. That had always been so with me, when it came to spending. I would be inclined to find fault with that which was not affordable to me, like the old fox blaming the grapes for being sour.

My family life was quite comfortable and enjoyable as such; without any necessity of spices such as a television set to add to its taste. That was what I thought. I enjoyed the company of my wife and children. My wife, a teacher, and my children would reach home before I reach back from the office. They would be eagerly waiting for my arrival, with many stories to be disclosed. It was a practice with me to buy some fruits or bakery items on my return to home. My children would pounce on me the moment I reach home. They would compete to grab the packet from me and then would want me to listen to their adventures at school. It used to be a hard time for my wife to get me to the table for a tea and snacks. At tea, it would be her turn. She would tell me, might be about an article she read somewhere, might be about the discomforts at school or might be about a new dish that she planned to experiment. I enjoyed listening to them. My turn to talk would be after my bath when I would stretch my legs on an easy chair in the porch, catching the fresh breeze from outside. Time was always running short for us to share our day to day experiences. As twilight drew the curtain down for the day, I would check on the home works given to my children. And later they would indulge in their own studies and preparations. My wife would be busy either in the kitchen or preparing the teaching notes.

One day,  as usual, I was coming back from the office with a packet in my hand. I smelt that something had gone wrong. The children seemed to be not much enthusiastic about the packet in my hand. That disappointed me. It was an easy walk for me to the table for the tea. I became eager not to have my tea, but to have my wife speak.

And she spoke. She told me of her visit to the neighbour on hearing that they had bought a television set. TV was not a common household item in those days in our village. She had taken the children too. The cat had come out of the bag. I knew then the reason for the dismal performance of my children when I arrived. The glamour of the television had taken away the glamour of my packet.

The day next was a holiday. My younger daughter sought my permission to visit the neighbour. She was the bolder of the two. She wanted to watch the television. I looked at my elder one and found that she also was equally eager to know my response. Holidays were precious to me. There were many games in which we indulge in holidays. There would be many jokes to share. The stress and strain from the routine would get relieved. Every one of us had to be together to enjoy the fun of a holiday. That had always been so. If one link was out, the whole necklace would fall down.

More than that, I disliked the habit of my children frequently visiting the neighbourhood. Even when we visit, I liked it to be together. However, I did not want to spoil the mood of my children on a holiday like that. So, without outwardly showing my disapproval, I just advised them that it was not very ideal to visit neighbourhood frequently. I could see the charm dripping away from their faces.

For the first time, my wife suggested to me the idea of buying a television set. I tried to convince her of the futility in investing a large amount which would only result in drawing back the attention of our children from their studies. The silence on her face did not tell me whether she agreed or not. I had never thought of buying a TV earlier. For news, we had the newspapers. For films, we used to visit the nearby theaters quite often.

A visit from a friend turned the table totally against me. I tried to gain support from him by bringing into our general discussions, the ill effects of television on the children. I thought he would agree as he also did not have a set at his home. But things went the other way. He said he was planning to buy one. He gave me a lecture on its educational value. And that was a point for my wife to cling on. I agreed to buy a set.

Arriving at a decision often got delayed with me. But once decided, I was quick to act on it. So, the very next week I bought one set. It was a TV with a small sized screen. I was happy. Not because a TV adorned our drawing room, but because I found the charm back on the faces of my dear ones.

On the next day, as usual, I carried a packet of eatables while returning from office. At home, I found no one waiting for me. I entered the drawing room. All were busy watching the TV. For a moment they threw a glance at me, and then their eyes shifted back to the TV. The children were not coming to grab the packet from me. I kept it on the fridge. Slowly I walked to the dining table and pulled out a chair. It seemed that the noise woke up my wife. She called out that she would be coming in a moment. None had any thing to talk. After serving me the tea as fast as she could, my wife was back with the children for watching the TV. I felt disillusioned.

I began to realize what I was losing. The TV had started commanding attraction. I was no more an attraction. They had nothing to talk to me. I stopped bringing the usual packets while coming back from the office. No one seemed to notice even that. At stake was not only my happiness but also the prospect of the studies of my children. As expected, the children started showing signs of disinterest in their studies. I could not blame them. What else was the purpose of buying the TV, if not for watching? Oh! God, what a splendid educational value it has!

The TV made me unimportant and unwanted. It parted my family from me. Not only that, it started parting the children between themselves. One would want to see the cartoons while the other wanted to see film. My wife too joined the fray with her eagerness to watch the serials. I had to find a solution to the whole problem. The only remedy I could think of was to send this guest out of home once and for ever.

But, how? I had to scheme things. The guest was a darling to others, even though the worst enemy to me. It would not be possible to throw him out alive. Others would not accept it. Such an action would be very detrimental to the interest of peace and happiness at home. I had to somehow kill him. Kill him in such a way that he wouldn’t fetch life again. Kill him in such a way that it should look like a natural death and not as a murder. And then his corpse would no more be an attraction.

The decision had been taken. Now, the remaining part was to implement it in a most unsuspicious manner. I decided to cut the wires inside the TV after opening its back cover. I can do that in the absence of others even if it meant taking one day leave. But, for that I should know how to open the back cover. So, I set off to a TV repairing shop run by a friend of mine just to watch and learn how to open the back cover. The man was already doing his operations on the inside of a TV. I decided to wait and watch till he opened the next. After exchanging greetings, I just talked to him on general topics as if I had come only to revive our friendship. He never raised his head again to look at me while I talked. He was totally absorbed in his work, but nodded now and then. That was enough. I just wanted to justify my standing there till he opened another.

My wait turned out to be futile. Losing patience, I asked him straight as to how the back cover could be opened. For the first time, he raised his face and looked at me. “Why should you know?” He asked. “Bring it to me if you have a problem. It is dangerous to open it by yourself.” He advised. I agreed and meekly walked out.

Things were not running the way I thought. I hoped against hope that it would get malfunctioned by itself some way. Nothing happened and days moved on.

I didn’t have to wait long before another idea struck my mind. It was an advertisement notice found between the sheets of a newspaper at my office that kicked up the idea in me. The advertisement was about an exchange scheme of the same brand of our TV whereby one can get a new one with a screen of larger size. The price of the old one would be decided by its age and the company promised to pay reasonably well. Their only condition was that the old one must be in a working condition.

I was surprised at the quickness by which my mind worked. Here was a chance to take the TV out of home. But, I had to be careful. The suggestion of exchange should come from my wife. It should appear as her idea. I took the notice to home and kept it secretly between the sheets of our next day’s newspaper. When I came back from office that day, I found that she was quick to serve the tea. She told me about the notice found. I kept silent. She said that a larger screen would help relieve the eyes of its strain. I listened and nodded in agreement. “The offer was only for a limited number of days.” She reminded me. I agreed to exchange it. She knew that, if possible, I would never allow money to be a hindrance to our happiness. I suggested that I could carry the TV on my scooter back. “That is right”, agreed my wife. “People carry even the risky gas cylinder like that”. “Why unnecessarily pay for a taxi?” She justified. That was it. My plan was working out.

Next day I tied up the TV well on the back seat of my scooter. My wife helped me to do that. On the way, I stopped my scooter and telephoned my TV friend. I enquired whether he would be interested in buying a TV. He said he would see it and decide. I took the TV to him and sold it for whatever money I could get for it.  

At home, in the evening, all were eagerly waiting for me. No; not for me. They were waiting for the new TV with the larger screen. No need to say how disappointed they were to see me coming empty-handed. I put on a melancholic face and lied that the TV had fallen down from the scooter while negotiating a gutter. I told that it had been given for repair; but the damages were too many and it would take long to get it back.

A few days passed. It was as if some one very dear was dead. I thought they would recover slowly from the grief. And then I could say that the serviceman had given up his hope of repairing it and that we would consider buying another later.

Not long after, I saw them again waiting eagerly for my arrival. Their faces displayed some sort of disapproval and disbelief. My wife wanted to know why I lied about the TV getting repaired. She had made an enquiry at the servicing shop on her own to know the progress of it’s repair work. I had no much of an answer. I was caught red handed and my reliability stood exposed.

The old days were never to come back. A deadly silence prevailed at home. Conversations were reduced to the bare minimum. My ears thirsted to hear a hearty laugh. It became unbearable for me to see their gloomy faces.

I was left with no option. No one asked for it; but I bought home a new TV with a large screen.

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