Murmur of the Lonely Brook (8 page)

Finally the drawing of the goat was done. Ria took out a few colored pencils and Nisha finished the drawing.

“Who is this for?” Nisha asked.

“Someone,” said Ria and turned the other way.

Knowing she would not get any further response from Ria, Nisha suggested they go to bed.

Nisha remembered her school days. Her village was small and boys and girls were made to sit in different groups. In higher classes the girls sat in separate sections. Though a few girls chatted with the boys, she never felt the urge to join in. Her complexion was fairer than average and she was tall. She also knew that many boys stole glances at her but she always looked the other way. And in college she always kept to her studies and spent her spare time reading books, which she borrowed from the library. Most of them were on mythology and she read them over and over again. It saw just a few movies with her friends, and then she met Pravin, which changed her world.

Diwakar was sleeping near the fire but in his mind, he was still sitting on the rock near the stream. With Nisha. He wanted to leave everything behind and go away with her. Just her and no one else. He imagined building a small wooden cottage with a slate roof. He would stack stones for a boundary wall and plant wild roses along the edge. There would be a few goats, lambs and cows, a rhododendron tree in the courtyard with pink blossoms, and a swing below it. A wooden gate would open to a pathway lined with poplars and oaks and leading to a river. Diwakar and Nisha would follow this path every evening and sit on a rock by the river. He decided to plant a wild berry tree next to the rock so the birds would come and fill the place with bird song. Inside the house he planned just one room, a big room with a fireplace in the center; a bed on one side and a large window on one of the walls. The window would frame the distant mountains. Nisha would dance around the fire while he watched. And then they would sleep next to the fire, he and Nisha, with their arms around each other.

Diwakar was half-asleep and half lost in thought when he felt the push. He woke up and saw Shevak standing over him.

“It’s snowing again and this time it’s heavy. We need to move out now.”

The snowfall was untimely and the apple trees still had their leaves. The leaves held on to the snow and the branches would give way if it was heavy enough. They either broke or got damaged and twisted with weight. This was a big loss as it took five to seven years for a healthy branch to grow strong enough to hold the apples. This did not happen if the snowfall came at a time when the trees were bare.

Diwakar was ready in no time and put on his jacket and snow boots. Both father and son left silently with a torch. Only Parvati stood at the gate and prayed to God. Outside, a faint glow made the road visible. The snow fell heavily and accumulated around a foot and a half. It was well past midnight but they could see a couple of people moving down the road. They matched the footprints left on the snow and moved quickly. The orchard was two kilometers away. After some time they crossed a bend. The steps that went down were covered with snow. Diwakar went ahead and marked the steps for Shevak. The orchard was a bit lower on the slopes. Both reached the orchard and Shevak released a sigh. Many of the trees stood with broken braches that pointed downwards. Others were loaded with snow and would give way any moment. Father and son started shaking the trees, one after the other. There were a total of three hundred trees, and between the two of them, they could only save a small number. The bigger, fully mature trees were at greater risk as they had more leaves. But shaking them was difficult. Both tried their best. The torch had died a while ago. It was dark and cold. The snowfall continued.

It was early morning when the snowfall stopped. Father and son were still at work. All night they had moved from one tree to another. Diwakar felt tired. His hands and feet were numb. He looked at aau at a distance still shaking the trees trying to salvage whatever was possible. He moved closer to him.

“Aau, let’s go home now.”

Shevak looked at his son and realized that he needed rest. He himself felt tired too. He nodded and both started walking back.

On the road, they met a few villagers. Most of them drank every evening. They were sleeping and would not be aware of the loss until morning. The few who got up were grieving. Yashobant was coming from the village. He stopped when he saw Shevak.

He looked worried.

“How is the situation out there?”

“Bad. It has put us back ten years,” said Shevak.

“I saw the snowfall but at this age it’s difficult for me to move at night.”

A few passing villagers also stopped. Everyone had a grim face. Most of them planned their life, loans, and existence on the earnings from apples. Over the years, the orchards had grown and now they provided a substantial income, even a measure of opulence to the villagers. A few had large orchards built over several years of labor but now their efforts had been lost in just one night.

The mountains smiled at a distance. They never allowed much lasting comfort to the people and enforced the cycle of growth and destruction, leveling everything.

On the way back, they saw more damage. The vegetable patches standing tall with bright green stalks had been reduced to thick green frozen carpets. The buckwheat fields that stood upright had lost their stand and now lay broken, twisted in disarray. The cows were having a feast from the leaves of broken poplar branches. Roofs, poles, rocks, boulders, and roads were all covered with deep, heavy snow.

Parvati was standing at the gate when they came home. She had not been able to sleep all night. She kept the fire ready, expecting them to come back at any moment. Both rushed inside and sat near the fire. Nisha gave them hot water to drink while Parvati made tea. There was silence. Shevak lit a bidi and looked at everyone.

“What can we do if he decides our destiny in this way?” Shevak said, referring to Devta.

“First the rains and now the snow. We need to make arrangements for a puja,” Parvati said.

“You think it will help?” Diwakar asked. “First you sacrificed two lambs because there was no rain; then two more for the rain to stop. And now for the snowfall! This happened through no fault of ours. This is global warming our teacher told us.” Diwakar was visibly upset.

“And what is that?” Parvati asked.

“You wouldn’t understand. What his teacher said may be true. This has never happened before in the last twenty years,” Shevak said.

Nisha looked at her father-in-law. She felt bad for him. She knew that apples were an important source of sustenance for the family and how a poor harvest would affect them. She wished Pravin were there to help his father. But then she remembered that he could help more from outside—only if he got a decent employment. She closed her eyes momentarily and prayed to God for his success.

***

The sun came out and created dazzling reflection all across the valley. Shevak took out his dark sunglasses and went out. The snowfall posed a threat to the electricity supply and he had to be ready.

At Lalaji’s shop, a small group gathered. Humbled by nature on all fronts, most of them sat with long faces. Balbir stood there with a cup of tea. His Jeep was totally covered with snow, only a little glass was visible in the front. He saw Shevak approaching and ordered a tea for him.

“Any news from Sangla?” Shevak asked him.

“All roads are closed. Landslides in three places have disconnected us. Even Sangla is disconnected,” Naresh said.

Landslides have become a regular occurrence during the monsoon. The cutting of trees and the hydroelectric projects contributed to the landslides more than anything.

“Now the prices will go up!” commented Balbir.

“Except for the price of apples, which will go down further,” said Shevak.

Lalaji sat inside the shop and listened to everything. He was happy because the closed roads meant extra profit. He had enough stock to last two weeks but he would wait a few days before taking it out.

At this moment, the TV stopped and Shevak realized there was a power outage. He looked at his cell phone. He knew it would ring any moment.

***

Diwakar stretched out near the bukhari. His eyes were red from lack of sleep and he felt exhausted. In his mind, he went back to his cottage in the hills. He decided to keep a good stock of firewood there. He soon fell asleep. In his dreams, he saw himself walking on the smooth snowy carpet in his small garden holding Nisha’s hand.

Ria got ready for school. She was in high spirits. The card she had made was ready except that she had not written anything inside. She could not find the right words. But that was okay. The card looked nice with its drawings of blue mountains, a red sun, blue houses, a yellow river, and an orange goat. She had thought of a hundred ways she could give Jeet the card, but then decided she would ask her best friend Lila to help her. She reached school and went to her classroom. Everyone, including the teacher, sat huddled next to a bulb heater in one corner; they were singing in chorus. A few minutes later, the principal came and announced a “snow day” for all classes up to the eighth standard. Ria felt cheated. Jeet was in the ninth class and she could not wait that long. She consulted Lila.

“You can always give it to him tomorrow,” Lila argued.

“But I want to give it to him today.”

“One day will not make much difference, my friend.”

Ria thought for a while and nodded. Both left for their homes.

Nisha and Parvati stayed at home. Nisha took the shovel and cleared the snow from the courtyard and the entrance. In the afternoon, both of them strained the buckwheat again and washed it with water. Nisha looked outside. Everything looked serene in the evening light of the setting sun. She had never seen such a snow-covered landscape before. The hills, the meadows, the trees, the roads, the river all looked different—she thought of Pravin and then she thought of walking down to the river with him, treading on the fresh snow hand in hand.

Ria came back from school and played with the kid and the lamb. She enjoyed being pampered by all and did little housework. No one ever expected or asked her to do anything. On rare occasions, she helped Parvati.

Soon it was dark and Parvati lit a candle. Normally with bad weather, it took two to three days to restore power as the electrical poles ran across difficult terrain. Shevak arrived home a bit later than usual.

“The cable snapped in three places,” he announced. “It will be three to four days before we have power.” He was not worried. Power was only used for light and the TV. He had an early dinner and went to bed.

Diwakar was still by the fire and wrapped a light blanket around himself. It was dark and Nisha looked out the window. The moon came out late, first spreading the shine on the opposite peak and then flowing down the snow-covered face and touching all the pines. Then the moon reached the valley where it glowed momentarily on the river, turning it into silvery silk before crossing the fields and touching the courtyard. It was as if a hidden light had been switched on and everything started glowing. Nisha noticed Diwakar standing beside her. He was looking at her face, which also glowed from the reflection. They smiled at the same time and looked at the dark sky filled with stars and moonlight, the white glowing peaks on the horizon, and the white sheet spread across the valley…only the shadows from crevices and below the rocks added mystery to the heavenly scene.

Chapter 8

It was Sunday and Pravin got up a bit late. Kishen got up and was his normal self again.

“Once a week we should indulge,” he said, smiling at Pravin.

Pravin nodded. He thought it was okay for this old man to drink once in a while, as he did not have any other recreation.

“Bare Bhaiya, I will go to the bus stand today. I have to meet my friend Raju.”

“Go, but come back early. Tomorrow is a work day.”

“I know,” said Pravin. He also informed Kishen that he might get extra work soon.

Kishen’s wife came and served them hot puri and vegetables. Pravin finished the food and left.

Raju was more than delighted to see him. He gave him a tight hug and pulled him to a corner table.

“How have you been, my brother?”

“I am fine, the new job is good.”

“Yes, you look better too. It must be the good food you are having,” he said jokingly.

“I have brought something for you.” Pravin handed him a packet containing a T-shirt.

Raju saw the T-shirt and smiled at Pravin.

“I am happy you like it,” said Pravin.

A customer called, so Raju left, asking Pravin to wait. He came back with a tray loaded with glasses and a special tea for Pravin. Raju came to talk with Pravin in between serving customers until it was noon and the stall was empty. The owner, who was always making tea and smelled of milk and sugar, came in.

“Can I get a leave for half a day?” Raju pleaded.

The owner knew the boy had never taken a leave for the last two years. Since there were not too many customers on a Sunday evening, he said, “Okay, but be back early to close the shop.”

Raju jumped with joy. He went inside and put on the new T-shirt Pravin had given him.

The two of them roamed aimlessly in the streets. Pravin took him to a sweetmeat shop and Raju ate to his heart’s content. Next, they went to the temple where they offered puja. Outside they got some potato-chat and walked down to the garden to sit.

“When do you plan to go back?” Pravin asked him.

“I don’t know. Maybe someday when I make a lot of money.”

“That will be quite some time. Don’t you feel homesick?”

“Sometimes I miss my mother and sister. But then I get over it. Maybe I will go next year when I have saved a good amount.”

“Let’s have some chicken for dinner,” said Pravin.

“You will waste all your money in one day.”

“My wish!” said Pravin and took Raju to a popular restaurant. They ordered chicken and rice and had their fill. It was getting late and both decided to part ways.

“This has been one of the best days in my life,” Raju said before he left. Pravin walked back with a smile of contentment on his face.

Anil was waiting for him at the site. He saw Pravin and waved. “Kishen Bhaiya said you are an electrician but our electrical work won’t start until next month. When the time comes, I will put you there.” He paused. “Until such time, you can work with the team that is making the slabs. But I must tell you something. Even though the pay is double, the work is hard and I don’t know if you can do it.” He paused again.

Pravin was accustomed to hard physical labor. He had a strong build and was desperate to earn more.

“That is very kind of you, bhaiya,” he said.

“Okay, report to the supervisor after your duty here. The shift ends at eight in the evening and there is no break.” Anil patted him on the back and left.

Pravin went to the store and opened the gate. A truck with stone chips was waiting and he started unloading it with four laborers. A few more trucks came and soon it was lunchtime. A few laborers stayed in shacks on one corner. One of the families cooked and supplied lunch for all. It was basic rice and dal or rice and vegetables served in plates made from leaves of the sal tree. (The sal tree is worshipped among the Buddhists and Hindus in India. It is mentioned in many scriptures that the Buddha was born and died under the sal tree. The leaves are broad and widely used in festivals and marriages when hundreds or thousands of people are served. The leaves are arranged in a round shape and kept together with small soft sticks that work like needles.) A young child made rounds with a kettle of tea. The corner was a small world within a bigger world, where women were washing clothes, chasing naked children with big tummies and running noses, fighting with other women—sometimes over petty thefts, sometimes over infidelity, sometimes arguing with each other, sometimes abusing someone, sometimes chatting, and sometimes laughing out loud. They were a group of people far removed from their land and roots.

Pravin closed the store at five and headed for the supervisor. He stood in the line and signed the book. The supervisor looked at him. Pravin was the only one who signed while all others put a thumb impression.

“Are you sure you can do this job?” the supervisor asked.

Pravin smiled, removed and folded his shirt, and moved ahead with the team.

Everyone picked up a bag of cement and moved forward. He followed them. It was not too much for him. They all dropped their bags and came back for the next one. After the lot was shifted, the team moved to another point where sand was loaded on a handcart.

In between, the young child came with tea. And then it was iron rods. A team of two balanced the iron rods on their heads. Pravin felt comfortable with physical work but in the end, he was tired and hungry. He washed his face and hands, put on his shirt, and headed back to Kishen’s house.

At home, Kishen already had his dinner and was waiting for him.

“You look tired,” said Kishen.

“I am hungry too.”

“Do you think you can do this extra work? I think you will fall sick,” Kishen said with genuine concern.

“No, bare bhaiya, today was a difficult first day, but I can manage.” Pravin smiled.

Kishen’s wife came out with his dinner. Pravin had two extra chapattis. After dinner, she gave him a glass of hot milk. Pravin felt bad, as he knew that Kishen’s salary was not much and the milk must be from his share.

“You must have it,” Kishen said.

Pravin took it but he decided that he must contribute in some way. He was now earning two hundred per day on top of his regular pay.

Kishen left him and Pravin made his bed. Soon he was fast asleep.

Pravin woke up early the next morning. There were a few puffs of autumn clouds in the sky. He looked at the fields far away and remembered his village. He decided to call Diwakar. He still had a balance on his cell phone.

“Where are you, Aaté? We are all worried about you.”

Pravin could hear the excitement and joy in his voice. “I am fine Baya. Please tell Aau and the others I am fine.” His voice nearly choked.

“I was always sure that you were fine. But Aama was worried.”

“Don’t worry, tell her I am fine.”

“When are you coming back, Aaté?”

“Soon. I am working here and—” Before he could complete the thought, the balance in his phone ran out. Pravin felt miserable, as he wanted to ask about Nisha and wanted to say so many things.

He heard the familiar sound of bangles and saw that Kishen’s wife had left tea for him. Kishen was also up and soon after breakfast, he left for his duty. Pravin decided to take a bath. He was feeling unclean after last evening. He sat in the corner and washed thoroughly. But all along he had the feeling he was being watched.

The days passed and it was Saturday. Pravin got his payment of around two thousand rupees. He felt good, and in the evening, skipped his extra work and went to the market. He bought rice, dal, wheat, oil, sugar, and some vegetables. He also bought a kilo of meat and a packet of good cigarettes for Kishen. Finally, he bought a box of milk cakes.

Kishen had reached home early and was sitting on the cot with two glasses and his bottle of rum. He was singing with his eyes closed.

Hamri na mano, tum budhoa se pucho…Hamri na mano…

“Ram Ram, Bare Bhaiya,” Pravin said and left the bags near the kitchen.

“This is not necessary. Why did you spend so much?”

“Not too much, Bare Bhaiya. I have some responsibility too.”

“As you wish. Now come and sit here. I have been waiting for you,” Kishen said and poured two glasses. Kishen’s wife came and placed a plate with fried chana (gram seeds) in front of them.

Pravin had dinner alone on his cot. Kishen drank a bit more than usual and had to be carried inside. The meal was delicious; he had meat after a long time. In his village, meat was rarely cooked more than a few times a year. Kishen’s wife stood watching as he ate. He finished and licked his fingers. She took the plate and left a jug of water. Pravin could listen to Kishen snoring loudly inside. He stretched out and fell into a deep sleep.

About an hour later and he woke up to find Kishen’s wife sitting on the side of his bed. She placed a finger on her lips, asking him to stay quiet. And then she lifted the blanket and slipped in. Hastily, he tried to move away and sit up but her arms were around him and her legs held him in a vice grip. He could not move. He did not know what to do. She moved closer and he could smell her breath of cardamom and cloves. He could feel her soft breasts pressing against him and feel her heart beating rapidly. And then he felt her hand caressing him. He felt aroused and could not help but respond.

But his effort was inadequate to quench her long unfulfilled desire. It was a reversal of roles and she overpowered him, as if a latent fire hidden for a millennium had found a vent and was bursting into flames. The sound of bangles filled the night while Kishen’s snoring continued in its own tempo.

Pravin was drenched in the sweat of her passion. She drained him completely with her intensity. And then she lay by his side. She ran her fingers through his hair. He looked at her. This was the first time he had seen her beautiful round face with its large bright eyes. In the faint light, he could see her firm, round breasts rising up and down. She had a narrow waist that ran into full and firm legs.

Pravin had mixed feelings. On one hand he felt content in helping to relieve her passion and on the other he felt like he was deceiving his benefactor. There was a feeling of guilt too; after all, he was married. But that sense was not overpowering, as it was the woman who made the first move and forced him into the situation. He felt tired and prepared to sleep. But she was not done with him. She did not allow him to rest. She worked on him until he was aroused again. She wanted him to go on and on as if there was no end to it. Pravin felt his manhood challenged and tried his best to satisfy her. She made him spend his last ounce with the determination of a tigress. He lay limp and exhausted. She smiled and rewarded him with a kiss before returning to her room. Dawn was breaking and the first light was spreading across the sky. Pravin turned around, pulled the blanket to cover his head, and fell asleep.

Kishen woke up and found Pravin still in bed. He wondered if he had drunk more than usual but he could not remember. He finished his tea and woke him up.

“It’s late. Get up and have breakfast.”

Pravin could only nod. He was still in a haze and feeling dizzy. He sat still on the bed for some time, then got up and splashed water on his face.

Kishen’s wife came in with a tall glass of milk; he drank it in one big gulp. Then she gave them leftover meat and chapattis. Pravin ate as if he had been starving for a long time. Kishen thought he must have also missed dinner like he had.

His wife stood nearby and smiled behind her veil. Pravin finished the food and looked at her. She did not seem to be the tigress he encountered last night but someone affectionate and caring.

Kishen left for the market and Pravin stretched out again. After an hour, he got up, dressed and left for the bus stand. He did not feel like walking. When he arrived at the bus stand, he saw a familiar Jeep parked there. Pravin recognized Balbir and said, “Namaste, Mamaji. How are you?”

In the village, nearly everyone was related to one another and Balbir was his mother’s second cousin. Balbir was surprised to see him.

“I heard you were in Solan, but it’s a real surprise to run into you.”

“Yes, I am working here with a construction company.”

“You look tired. Are you okay?”

“Yes, Mamaji. We had a party last night,” he lied.

“We had an untimely snowfall a few days back.” Balbir briefly told him of the damage and devastation.

“Why not join me for tea?”

Pravin took him to the tea stall where Raju greeted them and served them two cups of special tea. Balbir knew Raju and patted him on the head.

“So, what is your work like?” Balbir asked. He had to know in detail, as he had to face his sister when he returned.

Pravin told him about his work. He did not mention the extra work. He then asked about everyone in the village.

“You should call your Aau once in a while.”

“But you know his temper. He does not understand me and starts ranting and raving.”

“I will speak with him.”

“Tell him that I am a grown-up now. Also tell him that I am doing well and will come home soon.”

“I have to leave,” Balbir said. He had come on a booking and he was running late.

“I will be back soon,” Pravin told Raju and left with Balbir.

When they reached the stand, Pravin gave him two hundred rupee notes. “Please give this to Diwa and ask him to give a hundred to my wife. Also tell him to buy something for Ria.”

Pravin stood there until Balbir left and then walked back to the tea stall.

At home, Kishen was eating lunch while his wife stood next to him. He looked at her and said, “Pravin comes from a good family. And he is a nice man.”

His wife nodded. She didn’t say anything.

“I don’t know how long he will be staying with us. But you must take good care of him.”

“I do whatever I can. What more do you expect me to do?”

“Not much, just give him good food and a glass of milk. You must tell the milkman to deliver half a liter extra, starting tomorrow.”

She kept silent.

“Are you okay? Are you upset with my drinking?” Kishen looked at her.

“Why should I be upset? Drinking once a week is okay,” she said, and then left for the kitchen.