He thought it would be an ordinary journey. Standing behind the pillar he watched the train snort arrogantly into the station. With each snort he was reminded of his grandfather's words "You will fail in the city and return penniless"; with every heavenward whistle, he heard his cousin, "Don't worry. Come here and I will get you a job at the construction site." Now he had a 34-hour journey to prove one of them wrong, and he expected the excitement at the end of the journey. He looked at his ticket once again: compartment S9 berth 23. Pushing his luggage under the seat, he sat close to the window. "Papa, when will you be back?" - his four year old daughter Munni asked innocently. He stared into those soft brown eyes of the motherless kid. He held her frail palms in his, through the window. "Munni, Papa will get you a nice gudiya from the city..Say tata," his sister spoke to the kid, to avoid an emotional outburst. In a minute, the train pulled forward, and Munni's little fingers parted from between his. "I need to go..", he thought, "I have to, at least for Munni's sake.." The humid summer breeze and the rattling train coaxed him into an uncomfortable state of drowsy consciousness. He dreamt that Munni ran away, the closer he ran to her, the farther she was, like a mirage. He woke up with a start and squinted at his watch.
"What is the time please?"
A smallish woman, a meek voice as if she was scared that her existence would annoy someone. Her only noticeable feature was her rather large, expressive eyes.
"4.30"
Something made him look at the woman again. He had stopped noticing women long back. Ever since Meenakshi passed away... Four long years. His daughter's birth. His wife's death. Joy and sorrow in an instant. A heady cocktail. He had hardly recovered from it. He barely had a chance to. You can't be a poor farmer in Andhra Pradesh and have time for emotional upheavals.
Life betrayed him once with the death of his wife. Life betrayed him again, three years in a row, with the failure of his crops. Every year, the debt increased and it felt like a noose tighten around him. Tightened till he could not breathe. He shivered with the memory of the night, where he took a bottle of poison in his hand ...
He threw the bottle away when he heard the small voice behind him, "Papa, what's beyond the big well? Sanju says that's where the world ends."
His then-preoccupied answer had satisfied Munni’s innocent curiosity, "No, beta…That's the railroad to the city…There's a lot of world beyond the big well."
He had repeated the answer to himself, "No, it's not the end of the world".
Maybe some of that same innocence in this woman's voice or eyes made him rephrase the answer to her question. "What is the time, please?"
In a crystal-clear flash of certainty he realized ...
"It was time." It was time to put the scattered pieces of his life together. Just like the marbles he picked up as a boy. That he won and collected one by one from the ground, his pockets laden and bulging with his precious treasure. He had to play the game of life again. He looked at the large expressive kohl-rimmed eyes once more. Shy and downcast at times, hesitantly observant at others as she gazed out at the rushing landscape beyond the rusted iron rods of the second class carriage window. He suddenly heard himself asking, "Are you going to the city?" She shook her head, and looked away, out of the window. She looked tense. Almost a little scared. Balbir wanted to ask "What's wrong", but hesitated. He'd been too friendly. He turned away and looked out of the window.
The train slowed. Radhapur Junction. Dusty. Near-empty. Interchangeable with so many rural stops. Just one man got on board. He wore the bright, colourful pagri of the region above his sunburned face. He had a happy face and no luggage. As he walked the corridor his eyes scanned the berths. He reached their compartment and stopped in front of the woman.
"Jamna?" the man called out softly.
Jamna did not utter a word. Nor did she move a muscle.
It was a trial of perseverance for Jamna who was accused of bringing down the curse of the ancestors on the house. She bore the symbol of sin her womb, they said. The day the news of Jamna being a mother was announced, nature’s fury was unleashed that left the fields devastated and the family homeless. “The sani must be destroyed!” they declared.
She saw her father but not her mother. Jamna never wanted to see her daughter murdered before her. She left her to her fate, never to return.
“Jamna! Say something.”
Awe struck and puzzled, she asked, “Jamna? I don’t understand.”
____________________________________________________
I voluntarily tagged from Hyde.... So whoever feels he or she can tag please join the game..
The rules of the game-
Everything above line drawn should be copied and pasted with every accepted tag. This is a story tree and is best nurtured as follows:
- The blogger must add only 90-100 words (not more or less).
- All previous snippets must be copied before a new snippet is appended.
- Each snippet should be entirely linked (not just the first sentence or so) to its blogger.
- Characters, scenes etc can be introduced by the blogger.
- Bizarre twists, sci-fi, fantasy sequences are best avoided.
- A tag must be accepted within seven days else the branch is a dead branch
- After appending, the story tree can be passed on to at most three bloggers.
- If more than one branch leads to a blogger, s/he is free to choose any one of them but cannot mix the snippets of the individual branches.
- The story tree is best left to grow than concluded
- Please attach the image of the Story Tree below with each accepted tag (the link address can be copied and used).
Update: Tag taken up by Diabolical Angel!
10 comments:
You have to edit some of the post so that the the "invisible" text can be seen.
But I am not sure if I understand yours correctly. Is Munni Jamna and Balbir's daughter? Does Balbir know Jamna from somewhere. If he does, why did he "notice" her?
hey Hyde!! I editted that.. From my point of view, Jamna is not his daughter.. I assume Munni to be his daughter.. there is a correction made.. its "The day the news of Jamna being a mother was announced....."
the errata is regretted
Alfi, I'm flattered you thought of me, but I'm terrfied of doing fiction, no matter how small...I don't want to disappoint myself...
omg - this gets new twists with every tag :)
cool!
monk - if u are scared of fiction this is the perfect way to test waters ... it worked for me. ur not really responsible for the result - u just have a bit of fun :)
hey!! been a long time since I came to your page!!! lovely work!! I loved the Insomniac series.... my sympathies with you dear;-)
and you really gave another twist to the Dream Tree.. I'd definitely like to follow it up
well u have a great blog there...and u r...well i tink u can..everytin has a soln..well i undd forgivin is hard in certain cases...bt notin is impossible
ya...i know.But it was just a momentary outburst...wavering mind u know!
Ummm . . . i don relli know you, except that you comment on kanika's blog, and that u've bin leavin comments (n gud ones too) on my blog for the past two entries, so i thought i should at least visit your blog. Well, i don regret it. How much of that did you write yourself??? It's guuuuuud, relli good - n it resembles ruskin bond's stories. Interestin to read. Keep it up :)
@monk: shud giv a hand macha.. sometimes taking the road not so familiar might turn out interesting;-)
@Prerona: Thank you. hope you liked the bit..
@Diablical Angel!: Well, I read your bit and believe you uhave no reson to be terrified... Rhea has done a good job too.
@Anonymous: Thanks a lot for being ther. Pls Visit the pages of Diabolical Angel and Rhea to get the latest on the Dream Tree
@Bubbly Kochu: thank you.. hope you liked the space.. and I do agree with you, but again, "certain cases" only..
@rysha: I understand the wavering mind. you're talking to an owner of one;-)
@Salona: I dropped in your page from Kanika's... and liked your post. very expressive.. and the story? only the last bit in my page is mine. After that Kani took over.. thnk you for your compliments;-)
Keep visiting The Melting Pot of ICE... Happy blogging
oh i will...but not yet...not yet...pardon the corniness...
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