The
moon followed me shrewdly like a desperate stray dog, making me cringe.
Shaped like a roti, the moon scratched and scathed my soul. I was torn,
devastated. This was a night of orphanhood, that I was spending in the courtyard of the Hanuman temple Patna, under the shrieking lamppost lights.
This wasn't the era when one could run. These were not the times of Subhash and Vivekanand. There was no land, no forest cover, no empty parks, or deserted roads for me to run. There were no river-banks, trees, or mountains. Everything is a national reserve, protected territory now.
People inhabit concrete jungles like uncountable leaves, stealing the sun away from each other; their misery spreads like algae over the rocks of their existence after monsoons. But in that moment, my existential crisis took over. The worldly and material concerns didn't matter to me. I had fought in the beginning, but the land wasn't mine. Ethically it was appropriate to quit home.
"He must have said you're dependent on me for your livelihood. What else could have he said?? All fathers say this," Alok Da asked as he tried to convince me to return home."Go, tell him that this body is also his. And that this by-product has been raised not by his pleasure but the concerns of time."
"Go back home!", he said. "You're not a teenager. These are not the times of harbouring romantic notions like the Devdas in Sharat Chandra's novels. Think of your wife at least. You aren't alone after all. If you have no other reason, go back home for the sake of her misery".
I knew I wouldn't be able to return immediately. Yet I promised Alok Da that I'll return home. I convinced him and came back to the railway station. The truth is that in my fantasy I had already returned home. Just that this fantasy was tiring. I had some money. I thought about staying in a hotel for a few days. But it didn't make sense to waste money like this.
I loitered around aimlessly. Even the familiar platform looked different. Perhaps because I had a discerning eye this time, trying to search for a need, a lodging. Things change with your perspective and perspective changes with your needs. That's why perhaps the platform looked different too.
Today was Vishwakarma Puja. There was a statue at the railway station too. The children performing disco-bhangra there were from the families of sweepers and coolies. A young Muslim man was also Clapping in sync with their rhythm.I watched them dance for a bit, bit I was constantly wary of having my pocket picked. Just then, a few policemen passed by. Some were in uniform, others were not. One of them offered a few coins to the boy who was dancing. Next came a military man and offered his obe sciences nonchalantly.
I spotted many people sleeping outside the A.H.Wheeler shop. Outside people were spread erratically in the park. I considered sleeping there, but then the very thought of mosquitoes made me drag my feet towards the temple. I was hungry. I had a 100 Rs. note, and some 5-7 Rs. in change. I wanted to ensure that I do not spend more than the change before I reach home. So, I ate two boiled eggs for 3 Rs. drank water from the nearby 'chaat' shop, and then sat in the temple. There were a lot of people sleeping, crunched for space in that front yard.
A middle-aged man with salt and pepper looks, came and sat next to me quietly, observant. Said, "I wonder how people find sleep here", ... He was looking at me, so I responded, "Yes, it's miserable, but people manage to sleep". I was suspicious of the conversation he tried to make, I wondered if he was a pick pocket. He on the other hand had hopped to the other side, as the man behind me said - "Do you see, how he is speaking only to the younger men?" The look on my face must have told me about how naive I was, so he explained,"Oh, he is a pimp, what care does he have of sleep? He will simply go around finding prey through the night". I was tired, and sleepy, without any space to stretch my legs or to lie down, and that old man looked like a symbol of compassion to me.
The guard on night duty started pushing people out as the night darkened. It was 11:30 in the night and the time for the temple to close was approaching fast. As the last prayer for the day was offered with loud gongs and bells, one after the other, the gates of the temple were shut. Eventually even the electric sign board where verses from Tulsi were displayed was switched off. The guard finally started poking some people who looked poor and wore rags and sending them away. "Shoo! Off you go to the platform!", he would shoo them away. I suspected quite a few of these people were pickpockets and other petty criminals. Some were perhaps small traders. I wondered if they might have asked this guard to wake them up.
The guard came and said to me - "Why are you sitting, can't you find a place to sleep? See it's illegal to sit next to a sleeping man. You look like a decent man. It is for the safety of you, that I have shooed all those people away". Pointing in another direction he showed me a place where I could lie down, and stretch my back". He had already moved along, as I made an effort to get up.
In the meanwhile there was a debate about whether or not it is illegal to sit next to a sleeping man. But people seemed to be quite convinced that none of them was a thief. Instead, they had to suffer and stay awake because of thieves and pickpockets! Suddenly someone shouted - "Thief!", and there was mayhem. A lot of people woke up. Someone was caught, trying to run and escape. It was an old man in rags who was trying to steal a pair of slippers. In the mayhem I found an empty spot. I made a pillow from my handbag and tried to sleep on the marble floor. In half an hour I woke up, feeling refreshed and looked at the sky. The moon was rising from behind the pillar and she seemed extra slow today, as if she was trying to keep a watch on me.
I was still very frustrated as I started thinking about why I had run away from home in the first place. All incidents seemed to be coming alive in the face of the moon. My father, sister, brother-in-law, mother, and me. Everyone shouting and trying to speak on top of each other, and my shrill voice trying to drown all their voices. Oh, humanity! Why must you be like this? I was angry and I pushed my mother and father.
I looked at my hands. They were fine, they were not cursed. There are no curses in these times. Afterall, this is life and not some fairy tale. My father was in shock, at my garrulousness, at my insolence. He was still praying and showing incense to the deities when I had displayed my indignance. I had humiliated him in some of his pious moments. In the moments when he looked helpless, dumbfounded. His eyes started turning red in rage. In those moments of fierce anger, he looked totally vulnerable, helpless.
But what about all those years of emotional abuse that I had to go through? I had started imagining myself as an orphan for the longest time. The only solace was my laughter, and the older couple in my neighbourhood. They didn't call me son, but I always felt like that is where I belonged. That was my home. My bond with 'Chachi Ma' was one of unconditional love, and that with 'Chacha ji' was of familial affection. Mostly I was the recipient of the love from that family in so many different ways. The small but real demands that Monu made; the quiet observation that Golu would subject me to; the way Babli said my 'screws were loose'; and the way Gudiya would keep half the things to herself, simply out of the excitement to get into action; were all directed to me. However, I had a reality to live too. I couldn't bring myself to leave my biological family, for the sake of the owners of this orphanage where I received what I wanted from my own family. Yet, all these concerns, these miseries of my life are on shaky ground when I look at my father's helplessness.
Father - Father - Father : Son - Son - Son, my foster-tree. Open your heart to me! Expand your heart so I can sprout. Suddenly I was shaken out of my reverie.I got up and went to the ticket counter. I wanted to buy a platform ticket and stroll on the platform for two hours. But it was 2:00 am in the morning and the counter was already closed. There were no trains on the station, the Wheeler shop had shut down, and there was a man outside it with a spread of books. Some women were busy haggling with customers, exchanging their sleep for some coins. I returned to my spot. It was waiting for me, it hadn't been taken yet.
At 4:00 am I woke up and started looking for a tempo. It took me almost an hour before I found one. The dawn was breaking in, and I wondered if it was the right time to go home yet? What would people think? They will assume that I didn't have it in me to survive even a night, and so I didn't go home yet.I got down at the zoo on my way instead. A lot of people were out for their morning walks and jogging. I sat on a bench and saw the rays of the sun as it slowly rose up in the sky and darkness seemed to restrict to the shade of trees. Finally, it was day and I kept walking. I noticed kids playing football in the polo ground, and was tempted to play with them, but I trudged along. A young man was feeding grass to a doe. I halted there, stroked the doe's back, and fed her some grass as well. It was obvious that she didn't want to be caressed without being fed grass. Finally I reached the main road and the Sun was slowly warming up like a reassuring pat on my back.
Father was strolling in the park near home. He walked towards me and I thought I would leave quietly without an argument if he said anything. Then his vulnerable face flashed in front of my eyes. He was close now. We looked at each other, he paused and asked - Where did you go? My eyes welled up. Was I crying? I quietly fell in line with his gait. He spoke a lot. I quietly listened. We were approaching our home now. Neighbours must be wondering that my father went to search me and finally found me. I was thinking - I had lost my father and his love and I found him. Will I be able to find my mother and sisters as well?
The neighbour in the house opposite ours, feigned indifference; as if she wasn't happy when I had run away; as if she wasn't upset that I had returned so soon. My young neighbour is looking at me awkwardly and I smile at him and ask him if all is well. Everyone was all smiles at home. I walked into my bedroom and saw my wife in tears. I was interrogated before I got some respite and walked to the bath. It seemed like nothing had ever happened. I took a bath, ate, slept, and woke up with a yawn, and stretched under the sun as if I was a baby in a crib. Without a worry in the world!
translated from Hindi by Anupama Garg
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