Tuesday, July 1, 2014

One Fed My Mind .The Other Fed My Body -Part 3 (Concluded).

He rang the bell three times .I knew it was him .I opened the door .And ushered him into my drawing room .
He sat down and looked at me .Maybe because of hindsight that he was suffering from a major ailment ,or it could have been the somber and tragic moment that he was confronted with –Jaswant seemed he had  been  robbed  of his robustness. He  did not speak a word for about 2 minutes .And then  wept like a child.He told me that I was a “padhey likheh” (educated ) human being and that he had little to offer in terms of advice  .But before leaving me he held my hand and said “  Sabar rakhoh .(be courageous), inaa da koi dharma nahi  haih .Ea saraih goondeh hunh .Wahe Guru inaa nu  kadeeh maaf nahi karrooga” (they have no values .They are all hoodlums . God will never forgive them) .
That’s the last I saw of Jaswant ,as he peddled away .To the unknown world  .I was never to hear the ring of his cycle again  .
As a family we tried to  fight at the gruesome loss of someone very dear to us .And then  I  got busy with Sangeetas pregnancy leading to the  birth of  Pratique .I was also  offered a Principalship in Bhopal  which I  decided  to take up .Rai was no longer the place it was .It was caught up in politics and there were attacks on staff members by the “kuchha baniyan”  criminal gang .We started patrolling the streets through the night in small groups by turns .Mentally Jaswant went out of my radar .
One day Mr SS Khera (no longer alive ),told me that Jaswant had passed away .Mr Kheras wife used to work in the Punjab National Bank in Rasoi and she had informed him about the same .I could not believe that the man with  those rippling biceps and strong chest was no more. Khera who was also a good friend of Jaswant told me that he had  died blood cancer .
About a week before I left Rai for Bhopal to take over my first assignment as a Principal ,I made my way to Jaswants house in Rasoi .It was the first and last time I entered it .The modest house had a low ceiling.It had only a small window with bar grills on it .The fan hung perilously close to ones head  .I met his wife .There was nothing much I could offer except a few words .I asked her what happened .She told me “Khoonch zahar fahal gayaa si” (the blood had got infected with poison).I asked her whether they had tried to cure it (the poisonous blood).With a resigned look she said she had taken him to All India Institute of Medical Sciences where the doctors told her  it was incurable .And prolonging his life would involve lots of money .And that Jaswant had opposed the move  to spend money for the cure .I asked her what she planned to do next  .She told me she would go back to Chowk Mehta .”If one has to die –one will die anywhere .I wish we had not left Chowk Mehta.He always used to tell me that one day we will go back to where we belong ” she said choking  .I could understand her philosophy .My brother in law  had come all the way from Orrissa  to serve in Punjab ,only  to fall prey to assassins bullets .
I bid her goodbye .As I turned ,I saw his cycle propped up against the wall .There were also the empty crates in which eggs are transported  .I could imagine Jaswant on the cycle with his crates of eggs  .I went to the cycle and rang its bell  bell  3 times . My eyes welled up with tears .His liitle son gave me a smile.He had a smile just like his father.And then uttered those words that I can still hear “Bilkul Papaa jaise ghanti bajatey ho.(you ring the bell just like Dad)”  . Yes if you heard that ringtone thousands of times –you surely will know how to do it .I turned back and looked at his wife and told her to take the cycle with her wherever she went .Leaving it would have been like leaving a big part of him behind in Haryana .And  then I spoke the same words  that Jaswant had said to me
“Sabar Rakooh.” And added “Wahe Guru thawdaa Khyaal rakhoogaa” .(God will look after you all).
The other day I went to the supermarket here in Dubai to buy eggs .I came across a crate of eggs that were small .The same size over which I had protested with Jaswant .Rasoi is across the seas .Dubai is a big city –the international jet set .And it has been nearly 25 years since Jaswant passed away .But I still remember  him  everytime I buy or eat  eggs ,desi ghee and chicken .He fed my body for many years .Maybe one day I will try to search out his family in Chowk Mehta !!



No comments:

Post a Comment