Rendezvous…
1st Jan, 2008:
It was a late hour, at least when the concern is to pay a visit to someone; I strolled through the dismal avenue lighted by a few flickering sodium lamps and abutted by all somberly luminous akin dwellings. Street looked deserted as all man were cooped up in their houses. Sky radiated murk, clear and dark. Just a few paces away stood my Baba’s abode, a tad unkempt, sited just besides the street lamp. His nameplate glistened golden in the pale, sullen beams of the streetlamp.
The door lay ajar. I got in.
Baba was glued with the TV set and so was my granny.
I was here to bid him adieu before I left for my karmabhumi the very next morning, even before dawn but I was oblivion of it being the last one.
I greeted him and he too received me gaily.
They had had their dinner and didn’t take pains of asking me for anything. I sauntered to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water out and walked back to them.
I told them that I am leaving the next morning. I was not cheerful. I longed to stay back at home for a few more days. He too wasn’t delighted.
We gabbed for quite some time and then I insisted on retreating back home. I sounded glum.
I was standing at the threshold when he said,” it’s no matter, lad; we’ll meet again when the next time you come. I promise you that.”
I beamed and said,” we definitely will. What’s the need to swear?”
He didn’t verbalize anything then and I could not read what was there in his head. He just stared at me sporting a grin for a while and then I left the place.
2nd Jan, 2008:
It was just past 3AM when I rushed out of my house to board the train at 4AM. My dad chauffeured me to the station and came up to the platform to wave me good-bye. The train was already there. My heart pounded like it had never before. A grotesque sentiment haunted me. But I shrugged it off and strode towards the wagon; I had my berth booked in. soon, I dozed off.
It was close to 12 noon when I got up. I was a tad groggy when someone fed me the scoop that the train had been stuck up at the same place for around two hours. The reason being the derailment of the train our train was trailing behind.
This misfortune culminated in the cancellation of most trains on the route. As an expression of solace for the aggravation we were subjected to, our train wasn’t cancelled but its route was revised. As an upshot of all these dramatically posed events, a journey which should have wound up in 22 hours miffed us for 38 long hours.
Through all this while, I was oblivion of the excruciating loss our family was subjected to. My Baba suffered brain hammer age the very same morning. He was in coma now.
When I disembarked at my place, I was reported of it through a phone call, my mother made to me. This was followed by some utterance which I heard nonchalantly, or maybe I was too nauseated to understand anything. I got Goosebumps. But being a man, I didn’t burst into tears. I looked composed. My chore life took over all the pains and I just was too hopeful of his fighting back in a matter of days.
It was 9th Jan when my father buzzed me up to inform the sad demise of my Baba.
Now, I was white…
…it has been a year and a half now; everyone has well acquainted himself to live without him. But the blues still strike back some times.
Sometimes I question myself,
Was, the promise that he made to me, a serious one?
.
.
Was he dead the very moment he was struck...and was living merely to keep the promise?
.
.
Was he calling me?
.
.
A few questions always remain unanswered…
But two things are clear now,
1} He is dead now. And,
2} I am not going to hear him again.
