A dream fulfilled

It was a dark & dingy night when I met Roshni for the first time. Subroto my friend had traveled all the way from Dimapur the previous night after completing his schedule at the North East Council Games. Subroto, my buddy, is the coach for the Punjab football team and his players as a tem had performed well during the games. However, there were more pressing issues on his mind, rather than the sense of jubilation on his team having performed well. His close associate and ‘man Friday’ of sorts, Sunil had suddenly expired. He had telephoned me last night and wanted to check up that whether I was available and free for a day or two. When I answered in affirmative, he just stated that he would be arriving by flight the very next day and hung up the phone.

From his tone and tenor I could make out that all was not well and that Subroto was in some kind of dilemma. As he had not specifically mentioned about his flight schedule and details, I had to remain cooped up for the entire day at my Solan residence. Solan is a growing township and district headquarters in Himachal Pradesh. Late in the evening, Subroto finally made an appearance and I immediately noticed the absence of his usual bubbly spirit. He was more somber and reclusive than his normal self. He just casually stated that his flight for Chandigarhwas delayed at Delhi and thus, he had to travel by bus instead of his favorite narrow gauge train from Kalka. Having washed & refreshed himself he joined me for a cup of coffee with nice hotpakoras (salted fried snacks), by then it had started raining outside.

After relaxing for sometime, Subroto gradually opened up. He told me that during his stay atChandigarh with the football team, he was assisted by one boy called Sunil both on & off field. The boy who belonged to a nondescript village in the Rampur Bushair District of Himachal was a keen footballer himself and the love of this sport had brought him to Chandigarh. He narrated to me as to how the boy due to an accident had lost the strength in his left leg. The accident had occurred, when he slipped while carrying water for his home in the village, which had rendered him unfit to play the game he adored so much. But so keen was his interest in the game that he traveled all the way to Chandigarh and here he worked as personal assistant cum attendant to the all the Football coaches for a paltry sum of money. Seeing his dedication and steadfastness, all coaches posted at Chandigarh over the period of time, invariably passed on his services to the next new incumbent coach. This is how Subroto too had come in contact with Sunil. However, tragedy struck this boy Sunil at Dimapur in form of terrorist attack by the NSCN militants and it had become the burdened duty of Subroto to inform about this tragedy to family of Sunil. He had to wait a few days for arrival of the dead body and thus, had sought my companionship in this venture.

My first reaction from inside was to turn down Subroto’s request, but seeing his predicament I finally agreed to do the job and accompany him to Rampur Bushair. This place was a good eight hours run from Solan and we had to change bus at Shimla to reach this place. After a fretful night, with the rain falling outside in a constant clamor & din, created by contact of rain drops with the tin roof sheets, we finally started our journey the next morning. Since the details of connecting bus route was not known to me, we had to spend a good three hours at Shimla for the next connecting bus for the requisite destination. It was late in the evening when we reached our destination. The darkness around was ominous and the threatening cloud cover dampened our spirits further. After asking for directions from a few lost souls who were loitering outside in such god forsaken conditions, we finally reached Sunil’s house. A sharp knock at the door resulted in some animated shouts of children from inside and I could hear them speaking aloud – “Papa aaye hain” (Father has come) and the small door opened and that was the first time I saw Roshni.

Her petite figure looked all the more small against the backdrop of the door frame and looking askance she demurely asked for our purpose of visit. We had no words to put forth regarding the purpose of our visit and we remained dumbfounded. Thereafter, in order to break the silence, I asked whether it was residence of Sunil and that whether any other male member was available. The girl replied in negative on both the counts. This increased our tension further, as the first thought that crossed my mind was that in this inclement weather coupled with the fact that it was almost a god forsaken place, it was impossible for us to return back to any place where we could rent an accommodation for the night. However, taking a cue, as if by telepathy, Subroto stated that he had come in connection with official work related to Sunil and that it would be impossible for us to return back immediately. Hearing Subroto’s statement, Roshni got totally flummoxed and could not gather words to give an appropriate reply. After keeping quite for sometime she blurted out that she would talk to Punnu Chahcha (means Uncle)and then let us know. It was a good quarter of an hour since she had left and after the protracted wait she appeared with an aged person bent with age, wearing churidar typepyjamas with a short coat over his shoulders and a round cap to cover his head with. 

The appearance of this person relieved us much of the tension and we took the old person aside and explained him the circumstances of the visit. He was taken aback but advised us to remain silent on issue until morning and offered to provide us shelter. We trudged back to his house which was on lower grounds and had bigger accommodation and a room was spared for us to sleep in. We were offered hospitality as best as could be provided in such a remote area. However, the tea full of sugar and the simple dal roti was simply sublime and seemed as palatable as any gourmet dish. Having passed the night in the cramped room with all kinds of sounds emanating from around, may be it was insects or animals we could not gauge, but we woke up all bruised up in the morning. By this time, the uncle had narrated the tale of woe to the women folk of the village and they had taken up the cudgels upon themselves to break this dreary news to poor Roshni. Just as we were about to step out of our room, we heard a loud wail outside and jumped out into the courtyard. There we saw Roshni lying face down almost in a stupor with all the ladies of the village gathered around in the courtyard. The women folk had started coercing her to cry out and wail in lament and in this hullabaloo, the poor children of Roshni without understanding the magnitude of misfortune that had befallen them, started to laugh aloud. Taken aback, Roshni wailed out aloud in lament as per the practice of the village folks there.

We had to wait for another two days before the body of Sunil finally arrived in the village. During these two days we found out that in what abject poverty a majority of the villagers were passing their days in. The fortune of having two full square meals a day was a luxury and due to Sunil, his family was amongst the fortunate few to have access to good food, clothing & education for children. All this had been shattered by one stroke of thoughtless act in a far away land. 

Looking at this bleak scenario that lay ahead for this unfortunate family, belittled by the cruel hands of fate, Subroto was visibly upset. He requested me to hand over a sum of one thousand rupees per month to the family and that he would send the same to me by cheque. But the main reason to request me was that he was unsure that the family would get the money on time every month and therefore, he extracted a promise from me to hand over this amount personally within first week of every month. Aghast at the scenario that had unfolded before my eyes I replied in affirmative. Thus, began my monthly pilgrimage to this god forsaken place. The first few months were atleast tolerable, but with the advent of winters, the journey started to get more and more tiresome. I had to start early in the mornings and it would be late evenings when I reached Roshni’s residence. On the first two visits I was hosted by Punnu, relative of Roshni but I felt that I was unwelcome & more of a burden, maybe the cost of putting me up for the night with appropriate food was eating into his meager income. This was also either conveyed to Roshni or else she understood her uncle’s predicament and on my third visit she requested me to stay on in her house for the night. 

During one such visit, I had to stay put in the bus for the entire night due to heavy snowfall which had blocked the road ahead. As the night progressed, it felt as if I had been chilled up to my bones. Somehow, I made it to her house by late afternoon of the next day, after the road ahead was cleared of the snow. Reaching her house, I was suddenly engulfed by an extreme fit of uncontrollable shivering and I just collapsed inside. Maybe I spent one day or two days in such state, I knew not then but when I regained some sort of a semblance of sensibility, I realized that all my wet clothes had been changed and layers of quilt placed on my bed to keep me warm. On hearing me mumbling, Roshni immediately came by my bedside and a grasp of relief and short prayer to her god slipped through her lips. She immediately brought forth some kind of hot broth, which recharged my flagging spirits immediately. On her insistence, I stayed there for another three days till I became fully fit to leave. Her gesture had made a dent in my heart and the earlier relationship of a giver and taker was obliterated in that one stroke. My inhibitions were gone and so was hers, from then on, whenever I visited her, she would place forth some demands for herself and more often for her children and I was happy to oblige. An undefined bondage had germinated which was nurtured & cherished by both of us.

Meanwhile, Subroto had been working out for some sort of compensation for Sunil from the Government. His friends in the government department were also sympathetic towards his cause and ultimately in about two year’s time he could garner an ex-gratia grant of five lakhs of rupees for the deceased Sunil’s family. After receipt of the sum, Rohni’s financial dependence on us withered away to a large extent. But on her insistence I continued visiting her, but gradually these visits became rather infrequent. On one such visits, Roshni told me that although there was nothing between us except for a platonic relationship and she had no qualms if it went beyond that, but she was afraid that the villagers, who had become envious of her new found financial liberty, were spreading all kinds of rumors regarding our relationship. She felt that although she cared hoots about the same, yet she would not like to tarnish my image. I was once again in a quandary, not knowing how to address a situation like this. After spending the night at Roshni’s place, in the morning I told her that as her kids were growing up, it would be inappropriate for me to continue visiting her, as the villagers would next target these innocent children for no fault of theirs. Then I bid adieu to Roshni for one last time never to visit her in person again.

Months passed by and so did the years. I moved out of Solan, having worked at various places in the interim, I finally decided to settle in Dehradun. I am still a chronic bachelor and not much of my vigor & regimen has changed over the years. When the National games were organized at Dehradun, I purchased the tickets for the football semi finals & finals. The finals was played out between Himachal Pradesh & Maharashtra and I was bemused at the thought of it, as during our heydays it was always in affair in which Bengal definitely was playing in the top four. The match was an engrossing affair and the match was won by Himachal Pradesh, solely through the efforts of their captain and midfielder called Prakash, who was apt player both in the defense as well as instrumental in feeding his forwards with crucial passes. On conclusion of the match, Prakash was declared ‘man of the match’ as well as ‘man of the series’. While delivering his valedictory address, Prakash announced that he was dedicating his win to his late father Sunil and briefly described his father’s love for the sport & his demise.

I sat rooted to my seat, I was seeing a dream come true for an unfortunate mother and face of Roshni suddenly drifted before my eyes, which became moist with an immense sense of fulfillment. After the match I made it to the room which was occupied by the Himachal players and most of them including Prakash, were busy giving impromptu interviews to the waiting media personnel. I almost forced myself upto Prakash and caught hold his hand in a firm grip, who turned towards me because of this sudden intrusion. After a few seconds, I spoke slowly and introduced myself to Prakash. Although it was more that fifteen years since I last saw him, he recognized me immediately and hugged me. He told all his team mates that I was the one, along with Subroto who were instrumental for this day of reckoning today. After this brief interlude, I left my address with Prakash, who promised to meet me over the dinner table at my residence.

At around 9.00 P.M the door bell rang, its shrill noise jerked me out of the sleepy stupor I had worked myself into while sitting in my favorite rocking chair, which I fondly refer to as my cradle. Prakash had arrived for the dinner date with me. We talked about the years gone by. Prakash was the younger of the two son’s deceased Sunil had left behind on that fateful day. The older one Subodh, who was a bit reclusive and liked his books for a company better than any other playing tools, was now doing graduation in medicine from Lucknow. On the other hand, Prakash who had been much more boisterous since his childhood days, took to his fathers’ passion and had today done him proud. As the discussion jumped from one subject to another, I was shell shocked to hear that Roshni had been taken ill due to cancer and was in Shimla hospital counting on her last days. Since Prakash was to leave early next morning, he requested me to come with him as her mother would talk about me constantly and it would be bonus for her if she could meet me before she passed away. He narrated to me as to how she had misplaced the small chit of paper in which I had written my address and phone number before leaving her for the last time. She retrieved the same a few years later from her trunk (iron case) wherein she kept Sunil’s belongings. Thereafter, she frantically tried to establish contact with me but by that time I had left Solan and moved out. Although I was in a quandary, looking at my advanced age and totally unprepared for this journey, but when Prakash told me that his mother would constantly curse herself for having sent me away, I could not stop myself from undertaking the proposed visit.

Roshni was a frail self of herself, as if totally integrated with the bed sheets used to cover her frail body. Although her body had failed her yet her resolve and mind was as sharp as ever. The moment she saw Prakash with the big shield in his hands, tears rolled down her cheeks and she murmured – “tera baap aaj shanti paa gaya hai, ab mujhe jane ka koi gam naih” (meaning thereby that your father’s soul shall rest in peace now and I have no qualms now in leaving this earthly world).   Thereafter, Prakash moved aside and asked her to identify me. Roshni looked at my face for long and hard and her eyes changed expression from a query to glitter. Her eyes twinkled with life and she said – “Mujhe mere bhagwan ke darshan ho gaye” (meaning thereby I have seen the face of my god). We did not speak for a long time, I sat by her bedside and held her hands firmly, the emotion was mutual. Roshini remained in high spirits throughout the day and would not move her gaze away from my face even for a few seconds. She continuously clamored about the gratitude she owed to us for having led her out of the dark crevasse she had fallen into and that she & her boys owed everything they had earned as on date to us i.e. me & Subodh. I assured her that we had only extended some humanitarian hand towards her as destined by the Gods. But she kept on mumbling that she had seen the face of her God today. During the ensuing night Roshni (whose literal translation means a ‘beacon of light’) passed away into eternity to join her Sunil. Even today her voice drifts through the air at times, when I am in my sleepy stupor – “Mujhe mere bhagwan ke darshan ho gaye” and I always ponder, who is the real Bhagwan/God? Is it not Roshni?

© S Roy Biswas., all rights reserved.