Charrr... A brushing noise of bus tyres and a light jolt because of the bus brake. Now the bus was taking a turn. Sarla, his wife who leant her head on his shoulder and was sleeping woke up because of this noise. He saw her and she too saw him. She smiled and again leant on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
He viewed the passengers. Not many were there. Ashu and Divya, both of his children, sat beside the driver-cabin seat. The conductor who wore a towel on his head sat closing his eyes. He seemed to know one or two passengers, but no known name he found. May they be next to his village. Though they may be from his village, does he know them? No, not.
Oh the native...
Now one or two kilometres away only. This was the last bus to reach there. All can be at home by the evening. Most villages have such a last bus that takes you home.
After a long time he was going to his native village. He looked outside the window. As if he tried to search something from the land stretched far away before him. The past hung into his eyes. How much did he wander over this land! Childhood, adolescent period and then youthful days were passed here. He, when he was a child, came on these fields with his father in a cart. Ate sweet and sour berries with his cronies. Stealthily ran away from the home and the school and enjoyed baked green grams, sweet stems of millet, and mung seeds. Made many such ‘picnics’ too. Things came before him in such a way that they happened just some time back. He felt happy.
He should often come to native, though. He came regularly initially but the parents left one after another. The house was sold. He had a good job in a bank and bought a flat on a loan. That settled him down in the city. Slowly time passed and gaps of visiting the native grew continuously. And this time...
He regretted not visiting for a long period. Had there not been rituals for the Goddess they believed, he still might not have come. No doubt his uncle Maganbhai always said he believed their home as his own and visit regularly. But it couldn’t happen. Leave the visits but for years he couldn’t even write a letter. He asked himself, ’How things would be with him?’
His uncle... His face must be showing age. Must be healthy because of the rural lifestyle. Seeing him he would become happy. He felt at least he should have informed him but no letter he could write. Maganbhai was a distant cousin of his father but no distance in their relationship he kept. He had come to visit his home in the city. Whenever he visited he seemed to be elevated with no reason apparently. But then the city routine sucked that elevation. Once again that happiness would return today.
‘Father!’ from the back a voice came. He looked behind. Ashu and Divya were in his back seat. ‘What thought busied you?’ Sarla asked him. She was awakened. To respond to her he reciprocated a question, ‘What would Magan uncle do?’Sarla shrugged.
The bus entered his village outskirts. Ashu and Divya talked about villages that they read in their textbooks. A couple of days' stay for them was to turn into a curiosity but for Sarla it was to turn into a great boredom and responsibility. She didn’t like village life and wished the stay would be over hurriedly. It shouldn’t be so but for her it was the reality.
He felt a little unhappy. When he looked at her he found she was staring at him. She asked, ’If Magan uncle asked about Raghu’s job, what would you say?’ A piercing question he faced. He saw uneasiness in her eyes. ‘What should we say?’ same question it was as he had asked her. The question increased the burden on their hearts. It weighed heavily. The questions should have their answers, he felt. After a while he said, ‘Sarla, Raghu must have been settled now and so no question of it would be.’ He added, ‘If he asks, I’ll respond anyway.’ The last words were almost he spoke to himself.
With a jolt the bus stopped. He looked outside. Some people were there on the bus stand. The bus passengers took bags and baggage and got off. Sarla too picked up the bag and both of them got down. The children had already been out before them.
The bus stand was at one end of the village and Magan uncle’s home was at the other end. Everyone began to walk. It was already evening. By the time they reach the uncle’s home darkness will take everything under her power. It seems that after the last bus passed from the village it’s ‘day’ was over. Everyone headed home. A tea cabin and a stall were closing. Few children followed them out of curiosity. One elderly man asked him, ’How are you son? After many years you came over here.’ The children took everything with surprise and walked happily.
He found that his village too, like many others, broke down economically. Shortage of work and labour could be the reasons. How much anyone can depend upon dry land? The question related to Raghu’s job once again stood before him. He should have done something for him. Sarla too had put the same thing when they started from their home. Since their decision to go to the native, this question continued to lurk in his mind.
Raghu studied up to matriculation. The uncle believed Raghu’s life could be settled if he set him down in a mill or a factory. The letters of Magan uncle he received and they made recommendations for Raghu but he couldn’t do anything. Later on the uncle made no recommendation. Raghu’s married now and he’s father of a son. On his birth the uncle had sent him sweets. It was good that this time Sarla bought two pairs of clothes for his son and a shawl for the uncle. Whenever he came to his native he stayed at Magan uncle’s home. In a way Sarla is practical and can manage such things. She also handles financial matters in such cases. But he couldn’t favour a small job for Raghu. This gave a deep pain as if a thorn pierced.
‘What thought makes you so silent?’ Sarla’s question shook him. Instead of responding he looked at her. Sarla added, ’That elderly man asked you ‘how are you?’ but you didn’t answer him.’ He saw the old man walking away. ‘Who can he be?’ he asked himself. He realised it is the custom of the village whether they know you or not they ask you about healing and health. They don’t think of it as a strange thing. Never hesitate for it. But they always have good feelings.
He should have responded but the thoughts controlled him. ‘I was sunk into Raghu’s matter’ he said to Sarla. ‘If you already knew it, why didn’t you do anything for him?’ Sarla asked the question. ‘A matter of two or three months stay at our home. What else? Had it been so Magan uncle’s not a person to miss our gratitude.’ Sarla dropped a very big and heavy stone from a very high place. It crushed his heart and mind. Oh for such a small thing to keep him at home for a few months he didn’t do anything? His legs became butter-like. It was difficult to stand. He couldn’t think of anything.
Sarla too became numb at mind. Moments passed but it seemed like two hours passed. My throat went dry. She took a long breath and tried to compose.
‘Still Raghu and Magan uncle wished the same. We’d make some arrangements’. He spoke with a great effort. To get rid of this very matter he made a decision and said to her, ‘If things required any step to be taken, this time we’ll take Raghu along with us.’ This decision relieved him. He felt good. He waited for the children who legged behind. He began to talk with them when they joined. Restlessness was going slowly.
He entered through a small gate into the compound of Magan uncle’s house. Evening prayer in the temple had already started. The lamp there on the passage of the house was making an useless effort to remove the darkness hung over the place. He marked many houses lit with electric bulbs but Magan uncle’s house missed them. There was still a kerosene lamp.
‘Who’s there?’ From a little far away a voice of the uncle was heard. It’s the same known voice. His heart leapt up with happiness. The uncle lifted both the children up and kissed them and to him he said, ‘O you reached! ‘. This is the way rural people are welcomed and he too was welcomed that way. Soon a cot was brought and the mattress was spread. Without naming anyone he spoke loudly, ‘Offer water to our guests.’ But then he picked up a glass and filled it from the pot beside the basil plant and gave it to him. He also asked Sarla, ‘How are you daughter? Magan uncle brought another cot that he kept beside her. He drank water and returned the glass to Sarla. She drank herself from the pot.
Another elderly man from distant relations came there and sat on the other cot. Magan uncle gave him a water glass too. The ‘woman’ was carrying water for the guests but when she found it was already served she returned from the threshold. She was veiled. Must be Raghu’s wife, he guessed. A child held her sari end as she went in, the child slowly treated As he neared, the uncle picked him up. He sat him into his lap. ‘Raghu’s son. His name’s Ramesh.’ He was introduced. Sarla in a very low voice introduced their children. Her voice seemed to have changed. Sarla being a married woman needed to be in veil but she wasn’t. The veil shows respect to the father in law and elderly people. Perhaps to maintain that respect Sarla spoke in that very low voce. Magan uncle spoke loudly, ‘Prepare tea first of all and then make a meal.’ Once again without naming anybody he said but it could be understood that he said to Raghu’s wife.
Sarla took the children to the passage. The males continued to talk. Another young man came and sat down on a cot. There was nothing special in their talks. Random subjects came. He noticed the age was clearly seen on the uncle’s face. On the question about it he said, ‘It’s time to work. We are helpless to it.’
He felt great feelings of respect when he heard that many such ‘Magan uncles’ survive in such financial insecurity. Like his own son he asked each thing that he felt concerned about. For this he decided it’s time to do something for him. Because of the decision a burden from the mind was gone and he felt relief. His spirit rose. He was determined to do something for his uncle.
Sarla came with a tea-pot and saucers. The young man who had recently joined took the things from her hand and began to serve. First of all he was given tea and the rest followed. Sarla too took a seat and listened to them.
As tea was over Sarla asked Ashu to bring the bag. She called Raghu’s son and put two pairs of clothes in his hands. She said, ‘You first of all show to Grandpa.’ Then she said to Grandpa, ’For Ramesh.’ His face shone for a while but soon it was dimmed. He saw clothes and said, ‘Very good they are. But why did you spend it? Daughter, you've spent a lot.’ The uncle revealed his true nature. ‘For you I’ve brought a shawl’ said she and when she handed it to him his eyes filled with tears. The situation became very emotional. Seeing all this he felt as if this was his home. For a while silence spread as if all of them tried to let not go of these moments.
As the snake charmer brings out a snake from his basket Sarla after sometime brings out a question. In a pressed but low voice she asked, ‘Ramesh, where’s your father? If he’s out in the village, go and fetch him quickly. Tell him that guests are at home.’ Ramesh couldn’t get anything. Like a dumb he stared at her. She asked him to come near to her.
‘Hanging it to the wall’. The uncle took the lamp from the compound and got up. As the lamp went off he saw darkness around him. The uncle perhaps noticed it. Whatever the reason may be but for more light he carried out the wick of the lamp but no change was there. He took Ramesh into his lap and asked to fetch his father.
The old man on the cot said to the uncle loudly, ‘The chimney will go dark. Push the wick back inside.’ This led his eyes to move on to the lamp. Raghu’s wife came out and adjusted it. While she did it he saw her hands. Both the hands had no bangles. His eyes couldn’t believe it. He was aghast.
As the wick was pushed inside, darkness began to get its power back.