Tuesday 29 October 2013
“Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breathe nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean
Water,
water, everywhere
And all the boards did shrink;
Water,
water, everywhere,
Nor any
drop to drink.”
He was stunned to
read her letter. He was put in deep agony. This time a wave of true sympathy
rose up and down in fast rhythms in his heart. MISHRAJI’s wife was also shocked
to know of her misfortune. While MISHRAJI was planning to write to her a
condolence letter her second letter came by speed post. She had laid bare her
heart heaving with condensed and super saturated mental agony. It took him few
days to fumble out words and compose befitting sentences of a letter to be
posted to her, while her third letter came informing him that she was coming to
his town to settle in his vicinity. MISHRAJI consulted his wife with due
deliberation. Finally he wrote to Indi Koura,“ You will be allowed to live in this house as his own daughter.
You will be now an elder sister of Mini.” He posted the letter to her with his
wife’s permission. When she got it she became pleased. She felt a ray of hope
in gloomy life. Her uncle didn’t object her this time. They rather felt happy
and relieved to get rid of her. She sold her few properties and bid farewell to
her uncle and aunt. She was in extreme joy to be allowed to live at her new father’s
feet.
An Ageless Love
It was a prestigious +2 High School just outside the cantonment area. The total strength of boys and girls of this renowned school was more than 1200. Numbers of teaching and non-teaching staff were 72. The Principal was a learned man. He was triple MA. His administrative skill was remarkable. He dealt with all students psychologically, affectionately and fatherly. He maintained correct and reserved relations with all. The teaching and non-teaching staffs of the school were satisfied. The result was excellent. The Principal was proud of his teachers. “It was teachers’ credit for the good results every year”, he said. All teachers of that +2 school were good, efficient and worthy. But among them one was a genius. He had god gifted elements. The principal would pay him high respect and love. He was the most popular teacher of the school, of the market and the cantonment area. His name was C M MISHRA. He was really a great scholar. He was authority of Hindi and English Literature, History and Philosophy. He was well read in these subjects. He had read most of the old and new publications of both literatures. The Principal would compare him with Swami Vivekananda for his merit of reading and studying. He would talk for hours on the philosophies of VYAS, KAPIL, KANNAD, RAMKRISHNA, Vivekananda, AUROBINDO, KABIRDAS, RAIDAS, DAYANAND, RAJA RAO, Marx, Angels, Darwin etc. He had authority over TULSI’s RAM CHARIT MANAS, SURDAS, JAIDEW, JAI SHANKAR PRASAD, NIRALA, PANT, MAHADEVI etc. When he entered his classes students would pay due respect to him and listen to his every word and respond to his suggestions. Mr. MISHRA had one son Raja and one daughter Mini. His wife was young and good looking. The children had started going to school. The teacher’s widow mother lived with them. Most students would request him for private tuitions but he did not like to afford time for that. Only few of them would press him with due respect and reverence and if that would become unavoidable for him then he would select few meritorious students only to teach at his house. For that work he would take no tuition fees. He did it quite fee-free. Among such meritorious students there was a beautiful, non-Sikh, Punjabi girl. Her father was a high profile military officer of the brigadier rank. She was the only child of her parents. Her name was Indi Koura. She had lost her mother in her childhood. She was brought up by her aunt. She was exceptionally beautiful, intelligent and studious. God had molded and shaped her with utmost perfection. Goddess of Learning might have cast her special reflection on Indi. From the beginning she was given the best type of education by her father. She was told to score highest marks in all subjects so that she could be sent to study at the Oxford, London. That University has the credit of producing 47 Nobel Laureates and 26 Prime Ministers for England. Therefore she was inspired from the very beginning to qualify for the most coveted admission. She herself paid utmost attention to her studies. She would soon finish her school tasks and read some chapters ahead of the monthly syllabi. She came by her own car every day. Her father was popular among his colleagues. He had earned laurels and several military awards. He was known for his chivalry. Indi was his only daughter. She was a +2 student of that school. She had offered Arts. English and Logic were her main subjects her interest. She came for extra consultation on these subjects with the teacher. She was very much impressed by the teacher’s depth of knowledge and technique of teaching. She would hear him with due attention. Gradually she started coming closer to him. She felt impact of stupor at his vast knowledge, sober attitude and divine teacher-ship. To her he was as deep as oceans, as high as mountains, as holy as Lord Shiva and as mysterious as Bermuda triangle. Mr. MISHRA observed it later. He felt annoyed at her attitudinal change. He was shocked to see her talking somewhat in unrestraint manner. He wanted to call her in the lonely verandah and to tell her affectionately, “My good girl; you are a good student. Your ambition is high. You must maintain teacher and taught relation with me or else stop coming here.” But he could not say so. He left it on time, the greatest healer. He hoped for self-sprouting of her awareness, wisdom and enlightenment. Time passed on steadily. The changed behavior of the teacher disheartened her. But finally no change in her attitude occurred. She failed to win over her own strange mental infatuation. She continued her Platonic love and adoration for him. In the mean time her father, the brigadier, got transfer order to go on war front at Indo-Pak border. The military man had to comply and report immediately. Next day the girl came to the teacher’s house in the early morning. She was well dressed. Her exquisite, new womanhood could not hide itself with her fashionable short clothes. She was tall, milky white, having commensurate feminine figure. People say that no girl of her match had ever come in the cantonment. She was a girl of very good nature. But that day was her last day in that place. She had pressed her father to continue living there. But he knew well the limitations of a military top brass. Therefore he took her school leaving certificate. Before leaving the town she felt an inner urge to meet with her own teacher and touch his feet. She went straight into his house. Without any hesitation she entered into its inner verandah. Teacher’s daughter, Mini, was running after ducks. Indi Koura went there and took up Mini in her lap. She called her Indi Sister. But Indi was soon interrupted. The teacher had come inside from the garden. He was used to perform PRANAYAAM there, in the open, and then work in the garden with spade and scour. The teacher was coarsely dressed in Dhoti and banyan. With rough and untrimmed hair and sweating brows, he stood there amazed. He thought in himself as to what made Indi come there in the early morning. Why she was dressed in such a style of ultra modernity! He couldn’t guess out all this. Indi put Mini down and ran to the teacher and touched his feet. Some dust of his feet got stuck to her finger which she put stealthily in the parting of her hair. “What made you come here so early in the morning?” he asked in surprise. “Sir!, my father got command to join at the front. We are therefore leaving today this town. Father’s staff took the SLC from the principal. I came here to get your blessings.” The teacher virtually took a sigh of relief. He blessed her whole- heartedly. He also blessed the head of the military staff that had sent the command. He only said, showing regret, “Why so soon? Your father had recently joined here. But I see this usually happens with good officers.”Indi was sad. Her face was weary. She wore a drained and exhausted look. Her eyes were getting wet. MISHRAJI wanted soon to get rid of her. He wanted to evade his wife seeing Indi. She was not in her usual dress that day. She was in such decoration that anyone could be attracted. Anyone could lose either heart or temper. **********************
MISHRAJI was my bosom friend. He would tell me everything, all ins and outs, all mysteries of his own life. It was his habit to maintain his reticence with his all colleagues as well as with all students in or out of the school. He talked the least even in his family. He would talk only what was desirable and suited to the situation. Sometimes people would become wry and wary with his cagey attitude. But under the canopy of his strong character, vast knowledge and deep erudition everyone had to bow down. He was good, kind and helpful. He took pity on all needy people. But he talked the least. However the case got reversed as and when I went to him. His all reservations would vanish away. In my presence he would talk so much that others got annoyed. It was customary for us to visit each other’s houses and stay for few days. Sometimes he came to my house to stay for some days. He would then talk and I had to be his patient listener. We were unique friends. Some would say, “The reticent C M Sir has turned to a new leaf of life; he has turned talkative in company of G N Sir.” And they laughed. Actually the scene was itself liable to attract attentions of the people known to us. We lived 180 km apart. We met once or twice in a year. But regular letter writing kept our contacts always alive. I have still preserved his letters. These are manuscripts of rare literature, a holy mark of sandal-paste on the forehead of time. In that juncture of time I happened to go to his school. The Principal, Mr. L B Singh was glad to greet me. The vice principal, Ravi Singh, too gave me warm welcome. I waited for him in the Principal’s chamber. At 3.15 the classes were over. C M MISHRA came from his class room. He was called by a peon to meet me there. His pleasure was beyond bounds to see me all of a sudden. He might have thought the rescue team leader had come. He shook hands and gave me a warm hug. From the Principal he took leave and we walked to his newly built house. Mini was happy to see me. I gave her 5 Star Munch. She became glad and ran away to her friends. His brother was yet to come from his school. MISHRA’s wife never appeared before me. She veiled herself from all senior colleagues of her husband. Though we were of same age but she wanted to pay me respect by doing so. His son Raja came from the school at 4.30 pm. He was happy to see me. I gave him a drawing note-book, color-box and a remote-control-toy-car. MISHRAJI asked Raja to serve us tea. *****************************
1. MISHRAJI told me the whole story of Indi Koura, her unique persona and the name and fame of her brigadier father. How she topped in the competition, held only for the private tuition batch. At first few months she had behaved as a docile and obedient pupil. She had proved herself a real genius among the rest. She had studied a wide range of books of religion, literature and ethics. She was really wise and witty. She could discuss at length on any subject. For few hours she could conduct debates. Her motto was to read well with full perfection. Primarily she had nurtured an idea that no teacher can satisfy her educational quests. She had found and felt it in all her former schools. All her teachers would try either to skip her questions or to dissuade her from asking any further question. Some would complain to the principal against her for disturbing the class. But here was a different scene. Here her mind boggled at the teacher’s profundity and sapience. Not only he satisfied her quests but also satisfied others with her. All students eagerly waited for his classes. All found pleasure in diving deep in the unfathomable depth of his knowledge. For few months she read as the most docile pupil. Then deviation started to disturb her mental equilibrium. She began showing her mental infatuation. She wanted to know more and more about devotion to Lord Krishna, about the great devotee Mira and her dedication and self-renunciation in devotion of her Lord. How she went to BRINDABAN leaving the royal family of MEWAR. From that holy place how she went to DWARKA. She would ask questions of ‘GITGOVIND’ of JAIDEO, ‘KRISHNA KARN AMRITAM’ of BILWAMANGAL, ‘DIBYA PRABANDHAM’ of ALVAR saints of south. She would also ask about the concepts of NIMBARIKA SAMPRADAYA, BALLABH SAMPRADAYA, GAURHUYA VAISHNAVISM and also that if ISKCON. Sometimes she would request to explain ‘NAWDHA- BHAKTI’ and sometimes about RAM CHARIT MANAS. Sometimes she would stand up and dance imitating Mira. This was done when she was alone with the teacher. For this she would come ahead of the private tuition time. She would ask convoluted, intricate and devotional questions. Till now no one had been able to satisfy her mental quest. But there she had found a profound source of inspiration, a human treasure, and a fountain of heavenly bliss. She had read much about the great Swami Vivekananda. She had also read that the Principal of Scottish Church College, Calcutta, Dr. William Hastie, had said in 1876 about NARENDRA (Vivekananda) that he was a student with superb prodigious memory. He said that he had seen no student like him in all universities of the world where he visited. She would emphatically say to her friends and parents that C M Sir is the new incarnation of Vivekananda. ***********
I heard attentively the detailed story of Indi. I tried to delve deep into the psychic aspects of her mind. I came to know that she was exceptionally intelligent and genius. It looked to me that it was a rare case of genial and intellectual meet or confrontation of two counterparts ready to row on the turbulent bosom of the vast oceans of knowledge, devotion and bliss. The secrets, the mystery, the ecstasy and the holy sense of aggrandizement of soul were not explicable by common man. Surrendering of one’s entity before a Vivekananda like human prodigy, a superb store of knowledge and erudition cannot be explained even by Freud or his followers. She was herself well aware, well versed and well read in all subjects. Therefore her mind-level had risen up, far above the average surfaces. She didn’t care a fig for other’s comments or remarks. The Spartan evaluation made for her teacher by her fellow students would hassle her extremely. Sometimes she would object them vehemently and sometimes she took pity on them for their ignorance. I told my friend, “Remember the story of EKLAVYA and GURU DRONA. Though that was a different episode of Mahabharata yet here you could trace out the similarity of GURU-SHISHYA relations. You can also establish here a similarity of devotion of MIRA for KRISHNA. This relation transcends time, gender, age, code and all social taboos. Leave everything on time. It is a great healer. It will soon do away with your anxieties. Her father is transferred now. Indi will herself go from here. Your trouble will end automatically.” I said it in quick conclusion. I said it only for saying sake. True to say neither I nor he had been able to fathom the depth of upheaval of her mind. We had not been able to scale the turmoil in her psychic realm of mind. She was, as a matter of fact,
transported to a strange world of It had become an intrinsic matter of heart and spirit. It had gone far beyond the range of her physical or mental reasoning. It may move on long before seeking suitable adaptability in her mind and soul. The ultimate wish of all big and small beings is to get God. Omar Khayyam said, “God is, where love is.” So she had spread the canopy of pristine love over her teacher’s deity. Like Mira she thought she was not at all on wrong path. *******************
Indi then went to meet his wife. She was in her kitchen preparing tea. Indi went straight to her and touched her feet. She was taken aback to see the fairy like young girl. But soon she recognized her and blessed. MISHRAJI followed her up to the kitchen. He explained in short of the incident. Indi was in haste. Her driver was blowing horn. She retreated, bowing her head in obeisance, with wet eyes and disappeared. After a month the teacher got a registered letter. It was sent by Indi. He took out the letter. It was long and descriptive. He read the contents. It made his heart tremble. Waves of tumult rose up and down. He resolved not to reply. He preferred to write me its gist and asked for suggestions. I was perturbed. I felt disgusted. I wished my friend had never faced such situation. But God has created cures of all ailments. It is our knack which discovers them when needed. I taxed my mind and did pragmatic deliberation. Then I drafted a long letter and sent to him. It was addressed to her by her teacher. MISHRAJI liked the logical draft. With only a few alterations he sent the same on her new address. He thought that it was the best way to assuage her deep agony. After just about twenty five days she sent back a reply.
She wrote, “My most respected sir! I was happy to receive your reply. I kissed it knowing that it bore your hands’ touches. It gave me a pleasant feel that ‘you’re blessing me’. I felt devotional ecstasy. For few days I didn’t tear off the envelope and didn’t read the letter inside it. I kept it intact because, from inside, it sent off the fragrance of divinity of your total being. It whiffed off your graceful presence before my eyes. When I saw the envelope I just saw you. After few days I opened smoothly the envelope and took out and unfolded your kind letter. At that my heart was heaving up and down. Your pearl like hand-writing sparkled before my eyes. At one stretch I read it. Then again I read it slowly, understanding the implied meanings of the sentences. I read and re-read it but each time new meanings of some sentences shelled out in my mind. At first time I tried for one hour to read and then closed. Next day I again tried to read your didactic letter, made out the meanings of some of its passages, then again left it to read the next day. I repeated doing this for more than a week. Finally I took up to write this.
Sir! It is everyone’s right to see dreams. Everyone has the right to ride on one’s own wings of fantasy. I am not at all wrong if I do the same. For this you should inspire me, encourage me. But it is up to you to decide and do. However one thing is clear that I cannot resist saying, “I love your letters your hand-writing. I love your house, your kid and your wife. I love your pavements, your garden, and your library that consists of high-level books. I swear solemnly I shall continue loving it till I live.” When he read her letter he laughed lightly at her emotional resolve. But he was stupor-struck. He was at his wit’s end. He found it hard to explain ‘what had happened to this genius, mod-girl.’ He came to meet with me and stay for three days at my village. He came in an adjacent holiday. I was pleased to receive him at my home. This time I saw some lines of worries on his face. In our talks her name, her anecdotes haunted the most. I told him, “The answer to your prevailing poser lie in the analysis of large numbers of instincts in all human beings. Scholars grouped them roughly in two categories. First is ‘EROS’ and the second is ‘THANATOS’. Eros is non-sexual platonic love. It starts from attraction for some physical or material beauty and directs one’s mind to the contemplation of ‘divinity’. It is genuine, immaculate and transcendental. It goes on seeking the ‘Supreme Beauty’ irrespective of all mundane considerations and hurdles. It gives heavenly pleasure and supports natural debates. ‘THANATOS’ is that group of instincts that are earthly, sex-based and material. It instigates attraction towards beautiful body and enforces for physical pleasure and reproduction. It leads towards aggression, self-destruction and cruelty. It can also be said that ‘EROS’ is group of ‘life-instincts’ and ‘THANATOS’ is group of ‘death-instincts’. But a hard and fast line cannot be drawn between the two. It can change a bit under social or environmental ethos, conditions and drives.” My friend saw a feeble flash of light in what I had just said. He was engrossed in himself. His mind swirled inside thinking and meditating for a while. I didn’t disturb his trance. After fifteen minutes he came out of his inner swirl. He looked fresh. He was a bit cheerful. He had found out a way to tread on alone. He had found out a distinct level of ‘abstraction of human mind’. He shook off his all weird thoughts. He simply said, “Thank you very much! Now I shall send her a good reply. I know I had always seen positive aspects of all events, but in her case I could not judge well.” The rest of the time, he stayed at my house, passed in usual charms.
A week passed away quickly. Then the second had passed in an inconvenient silence. The third week was at its fag end. We had always maintained the norms that whoever departed, wrote first. I was waiting anxiously for his letter. The postman bore a weary look whenever he saw me; he had to shake his head in negative reply. But the uncomfortable situation ended at last. The postman rang a long call bell. On opening the door I saw a smiling man holding my long awaited letter. It had been sent by my friend. It was stamped at the cantonment post office. I thanked him and he gleefully U-turned and went away. Soon I took out the letter and read. My hand shook, body trembled and letter fell off my hand. I thumped down on the chair in utter grief. Indi’s father, the brigadier, was killed in a bulky landslide. Reportedly he was going in his army jeep to check an army post at high snowy ridge. Avalanche started in the mean time. He was a few km behind the post. A large chunk of the mountain-mass slid and fell upon his jeep. He was killed along with his aides. The news spread like wildfire. Bolt from the blue struck on Indi’s house. All in her family were put in the deep den of gloom and grief; in the deep dungeon of extreme sorrow and tears. This was a case of utter ill-luck for that highly promising and ambitious girl. Her uncle was the only guardian to look after her. The brigadier had left considerable property in her name. However that was not enough to push her to The Oxford. She expressed her wish to return to her former school. Here she wished to spend her rest of time in the close vicinity of MISHRAJI. She had planned to take there a private rented house and live in peace, reading and writing books. She wanted to lead a life of devoted woman writers like NAYANTARA SAHGAL, ARUNDATHI ROY, ANITA DESAI, SHASHI DESPANDE, ANITA NAIR, SHOBHA DE, JHUMPA LAHIRI….She thought that it would only be possible if she kept regular contact with her former teacher. He was still her role-model. She then wrote a long letter to him stating her eagerness of settling down near him. But this proposition from her side put him in a shaky situation. He conveyed the ongoing news from her side to me. He was almost in an embarrassing situation. He had no doubt over her sanctity and seriousness and selfless devotion. But he knew common people will assess everything in their own ways. Gradually they will pass absurd comments. He was aware that she might damage his reputation in future. He was simply a worldly man with all requisite reservations and live limitations. He cautiously maintained the subtle equilibrium of life in the society. To be peeved at such peculiar happening was but natural phenomena for him. He immediately wrote to me about her determination of settling down there. I had been immensely disgusted with this story but my friend’s problem was mine one. I wanted him to say her strictly to settle at Delhi or to anywhere else but not at that place. I was planning to write to him all this in detail but soon a letter came again from him. This letter gave me greater relief. My friend too was in celebrative mood. He called me to join the celebration at his residence. The ruse problem was automatically settled. When Indi’s uncle heard of her decision of settling at her old teacher’s town he became furious. Her uncle and aunt settled her marriage with an army pilot officer. He was young smart and well trained pilot. He came from a reputed army family. Everything was normal with him. When he saw her first he was charmed with her bewitching beauty. He immediately agreed to make her his life-partner. The problem was only with her. She had none else in her dream except her teacher. She did express her determination of living at the feet of her reverent one. But she had to succumb to their pressure at last. Her spirit was put in a narrow cage. She wept and fluttered her wings in vain. The orphan young damsel had none to listen to her. At last she wrote to her teacher about these developments. With her wet eyes she requested him to join the wedding ceremony at Amritsar. Now MISHRAJI, too, was sad. He was sad for her helplessness. He remembered her father’s plan to make her a Cambrian. All the old scenes of her frisk life in and out of the school revolved in his mind. At least no student he had seen of her caliber in his service period. Now she was a caged spirit. She had none in her circle to confide to, save and except her teacher. But the news of settlement of her marriage with a pilot officer of Indian Air Force gave the teacher great solace. He felt extreme satisfaction over the suitable match for her. He wrote her a letter of congratulation. He also informed his inability to attend her marriage ceremony due to some unavoidable reasons. This letter reached her in time. She was shocked to learn that MISHRAJI won’t join in the wedding ceremony. She had no way except accepting all that happen to pass against her wishes. The marriage ceremony was a lackluster show. Pomp and splendor was seen in boy’s side but girl’s side was without zeal and jest. On the honey-moon night she asked her husband, “Which God do you worship? Which great man you like the most? Who is your most favorite writer? Who is your best friend...etc”? The pilot officer was stupefied at all these off-beat questions. His mind was boggled at the absurdity of her untimely and uncouth dialogue. She was unaware of the occasion, time and situational requirements of the beginning hour of a newly married life. Her husband tried to bring her back to the practical levels of new life but she was lost in a world of her own. She was deeply engrossed in her own thoughts. She was oblivious of her hussy’s basic need that was her prime duty to fulfill. Night passed away but the story didn’t take THANATOS’ shape. However her husband was not exasperated. He was not nonplussed either. He felt rather a kind of ethereal throb in his heart. He was bewitched by her beauty of body as well as the sanctity of her soul. His huge embarrassment sublimed off when she said to him, “Would like to sing a sweet MEERA’s hymn or at least like to listen to? She was cool and confident. No stress was seen on her face. She was in her usual traits. He only nodded his head in affirmative and said, “Yes! I shall listen to. I don’t know singing.” She sang MEERA’s hymn in a melodious tone. It produced queer magic effect upon him. The turbulence of his mind was subdued by MEERA’s devotion-influence. It continued till late hours in the night. They didn’t know when they fell asleep. In the morning he got up and asked his wife to get ready to accompany him to her new house. She agreed and got ready. She had intense desire to get out the clutches of her uncle and aunt. Till noon everything was ready for their farewell. On a new Enova car they started the new journey of a conjugal life. Her new palatial house had an extraordinary look. Its façade was majestically decorated with flowers and festoons. She was given traditional welcome with all rituals. Everywhere it bore a royal look. She found everything beyond her expectations. One thing she found missing. There was no portrait of MEERA and KRISHNA on the walls but her wish too was soon fulfilled. Less than a week’s time had just passed when her husband was immediately called to join duty. His colleague had fallen ill. He had to take up his charge. She was willing to accompany him but he had no time to discuss and fulfill her wishes. He bade farewell to his all family members and parted off. At this time of crisis she was reminded of her reverent teacher. She wrote him a long letter stating every bit of details of her marriage, her husband, her honeymoon, in-laws house, army-environment, her new relatives, their treatment with her, how she respects and love them, her daily chores and duties, her day-long engagements and her studies in the new ambience. My friend read the letter and felt peeved. He had hoped that her marriage would divert her mind from him. He had a wish to get rid of her undue alignment with him. But this long letter shattered his hope, his wishes. He kept mum for a week. He thought his silence would dissuade her. She will gradually stop writing to him. She will finally forget him. But it was all hoping against a hope, wishing against a wish. Her next letter followed after just a fortnight. It was longer one. It was dreadful to read. It bore news of falling of a huge thunderbolt upon her head. Her husband was killed in an air crash. Her future stood at such a crossroad from where pitch black darkness started. For three days none came to meet her, see her and solace her. Fourth day a maid stealthily came and gave her something to eat. Her in-laws gave her a weird and estranged treatment henceforth. They scolded her fate and spit out all kinds of curses. Her misfortune lay in bundles over head. Therefore her letter contained the agony of an ancient mariner around whose neck the shot-dead albatross was hung.
“Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breathe nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean
Water, water, everywhere
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, everywhere,
Nor any drop to drink.”
He was stunned to read her letter. He was put in deep agony. This time a wave of true sympathy rose up and down in fast rhythms in his heart. MISHRAJI’s wife was also shocked to know of her misfortune. While MISHRAJI was planning to write to her a condolence letter her second letter came by speed post. She had laid bare her heart heaving with condensed and super saturated mental agony. It took him few days to fumble out words and compose befitting sentences of a letter to be posted to her, while her third letter came informing him that she was coming to his town to settle in his vicinity. MISHRAJI consulted his wife with due deliberation. Finally he wrote to Indi Koura,“ You will be allowed to live in this house as his own daughter. You will be now an elder sister of Mini.” He posted the letter to her with his wife’s permission. When she got it she became pleased. She felt a ray of hope in gloomy life. Her uncle didn’t object her this time. They rather felt happy and relieved to get rid of her. She sold her few properties and bid farewell to her uncle and aunt. She was in extreme joy to be allowed to live at her new father’s feet.
(Propinquity) Profundity
An Ageless Love
It was a prestigious +2 High School just outside the cantonment area. The total strength of boys and girls of this renowned school was more than 1200. Numbers of teaching and non-teaching staff were 72. The Principal was a learned man. He was triple MA. His administrative skill was remarkable. He dealt with all students psychologically, affectionately and fatherly. He maintained correct and reserved relations with all. The teaching and non-teaching staffs of the school were satisfied. The result was excellent. The Principal was proud of his teachers. “It was teachers’ credit for the good results every year”, he said. All teachers of that +2 school were good, efficient and worthy. But among them one was a genius. He had god gifted elements. The principal would pay him high respect and love. He was the most popular teacher of the school, of the market and the cantonment area. His name was C M MISHRA. He was really a great scholar. He was authority of Hindi and English Literature, History and Philosophy. He was well read in these subjects. He had read most of the old and new publications of both literatures. The Principal would compare him with Swami Vivekananda for his merit of reading and studying. He would talk for hours on the philosophies of VYAS, KAPIL, KANNAD, RAMKRISHNA, Vivekananda, AUROBINDO, KABIRDAS, RAIDAS, DAYANAND, RAJA RAO, Marx, Angels, Darwin etc. He had authority over TULSI’s RAM CHARIT MANAS, SURDAS, JAIDEW, JAI SHANKAR PRASAD, NIRALA, PANT, MAHADEVI etc. When he entered his classes students would pay due respect to him and listen to his every word and respond to his suggestions. Mr. MISHRA had one son Raja and one daughter Mini. His wife was young and good looking. The children had started going to school. The teacher’s widow mother lived with them. Most students would request him for private tuitions but he did not like to afford time for that. Only few of them would press him with due respect and reverence and if that would become unavoidable for him then he would select few meritorious students only to teach at his house. For that work he would take no tuition fees. He did it quite fee-free. Among such meritorious students there was a beautiful, non-Sikh, Punjabi girl. Her father was a high profile military officer of the brigadier rank. She was the only child of her parents. Her name was Indi Koura. She had lost her mother in her childhood. She was brought up by her aunt. She was exceptionally beautiful, intelligent and studious. God had molded and shaped her with utmost perfection. Goddess of Learning might have cast her special reflection on Indi. From the beginning she was given the best type of education by her father. She was told to score highest marks in all subjects so that she could be sent to study at the Oxford, London. That University has the credit of producing 47 Nobel Laureates and 26 Prime Ministers for England. Therefore she was inspired from the very beginning to qualify for the most coveted admission. She herself paid utmost attention to her studies. She would soon finish her school tasks and read some chapters ahead of the monthly syllabi. She came by her own car every day. Her father was popular among his colleagues. He had earned laurels and several military awards. He was known for his chivalry. Indi was his only daughter. She was a +2 student of that school. She had offered Arts. English and Logic were her main subjects her interest. She came for extra consultation on these subjects with the teacher. She was very much impressed by the teacher’s depth of knowledge and technique of teaching. She would hear him with due attention. Gradually she started coming closer to him. She felt impact of stupor at his vast knowledge, sober attitude and divine teacher-ship. To her he was as deep as oceans, as high as mountains, as holy as Lord Shiva and as mysterious as Bermuda triangle. Mr. MISHRA observed it later. He felt annoyed at her attitudinal change. He was shocked to see her talking somewhat in unrestraint manner. He wanted to call her in the lonely verandah and to tell her affectionately, “My good girl; you are a good student. Your ambition is high. You must maintain teacher and taught relation with me or else stop coming here.” But he could not say so. He left it on time, the greatest healer. He hoped for self-sprouting of her awareness, wisdom and enlightenment. Time passed on steadily. The changed behavior of the teacher disheartened her. But finally no change in her attitude occurred. She failed to win over her own strange mental infatuation. She continued her Platonic love and adoration for him. In the mean time her father, the brigadier, got transfer order to go on war front at Indo-Pak border. The military man had to comply and report immediately. Next day the girl came to the teacher’s house in the early morning. She was well dressed. Her exquisite, new womanhood could not hide itself with her fashionable short clothes. She was tall, milky white, having commensurate feminine figure. People say that no girl of her match had ever come in the cantonment. She was a girl of very good nature. But that day was her last day in that place. She had pressed her father to continue living there. But he knew well the limitations of a military top brass. Therefore he took her school leaving certificate. Before leaving the town she felt an inner urge to meet with her own teacher and touch his feet. She went straight into his house. Without any hesitation she entered into its inner verandah. Teacher’s daughter, Mini, was running after ducks. Indi Koura went there and took up Mini in her lap. She called her Indi Sister. But Indi was soon interrupted. The teacher had come inside from the garden. He was used to perform PRANAYAAM there, in the open, and then work in the garden with spade and scour. The teacher was coarsely dressed in Dhoti and banyan. With rough and untrimmed hair and sweating brows, he stood there amazed. He thought in himself as to what made Indi come there in the early morning. Why she was dressed in such a style of ultra modernity! He couldn’t guess out all this. Indi put Mini down and ran to the teacher and touched his feet. Some dust of his feet got stuck to her finger which she put stealthily in the parting of her hair. “What made you come here so early in the morning?” he asked in surprise. “Sir!, my father got command to join at the front. We are therefore leaving today this town. Father’s staff took the SLC from the principal. I came here to get your blessings.” The teacher virtually took a sigh of relief. He blessed her whole- heartedly. He also blessed the head of the military staff that had sent the command. He only said, showing regret, “Why so soon? Your father had recently joined here. But I see this usually happens with good officers.”Indi was sad. Her face was weary. She wore a drained and exhausted look. Her eyes were getting wet. MISHRAJI wanted soon to get rid of her. He wanted to evade his wife seeing Indi. She was not in her usual dress that day. She was in such decoration that anyone could be attracted. Anyone could lose either heart or temper. **********************
MISHRAJI was my bosom friend. He would tell me everything, all ins and outs, all mysteries of his own life. It was his habit to maintain his reticence with his all colleagues as well as with all students in or out of the school. He talked the least even in his family. He would talk only what was desirable and suited to the situation. Sometimes people would become wry and wary with his cagey attitude. But under the canopy of his strong character, vast knowledge and deep erudition everyone had to bow down. He was good, kind and helpful. He took pity on all needy people. But he talked the least. However the case got reversed as and when I went to him. His all reservations would vanish away. In my presence he would talk so much that others got annoyed. It was customary for us to visit each other’s houses and stay for few days. Sometimes he came to my house to stay for some days. He would then talk and I had to be his patient listener. We were unique friends. Some would say, “The reticent C M Sir has turned to a new leaf of life; he has turned talkative in company of G N Sir.” And they laughed. Actually the scene was itself liable to attract attentions of the people known to us. We lived 180 km apart. We met once or twice in a year. But regular letter writing kept our contacts always alive. I have still preserved his letters. These are manuscripts of rare literature, a holy mark of sandal-paste on the forehead of time. In that juncture of time I happened to go to his school. The Principal, Mr. L B Singh was glad to greet me. The vice principal, Ravi Singh, too gave me warm welcome. I waited for him in the Principal’s chamber. At 3.15 the classes were over. C M MISHRA came from his class room. He was called by a peon to meet me there. His pleasure was beyond bounds to see me all of a sudden. He might have thought the rescue team leader had come. He shook hands and gave me a warm hug. From the Principal he took leave and we walked to his newly built house. Mini was happy to see me. I gave her 5 Star Munch. She became glad and ran away to her friends. His brother was yet to come from his school. MISHRA’s wife never appeared before me. She veiled herself from all senior colleagues of her husband. Though we were of same age but she wanted to pay me respect by doing so. His son Raja came from the school at 4.30 pm. He was happy to see me. I gave him a drawing note-book, color-box and a remote-control-toy-car. MISHRAJI asked Raja to serve us tea. *****************************
1. MISHRAJI told me the whole story of Indi Koura, her unique persona and the name and fame of her brigadier father. How she topped in the competition, held only for the private tuition batch. At first few months she had behaved as a docile and obedient pupil. She had proved herself a real genius among the rest. She had studied a wide range of books of religion, literature and ethics. She was really wise and witty. She could discuss at length on any subject. For few hours she could conduct debates. Her motto was to read well with full perfection. Primarily she had nurtured an idea that no teacher can satisfy her educational quests. She had found and felt it in all her former schools. All her teachers would try either to skip her questions or to dissuade her from asking any further question. Some would complain to the principal against her for disturbing the class. But here was a different scene. Here her mind boggled at the teacher’s profundity and sapience. Not only he satisfied her quests but also satisfied others with her. All students eagerly waited for his classes. All found pleasure in diving deep in the unfathomable depth of his knowledge. For few months she read as the most docile pupil. Then deviation started to disturb her mental equilibrium. She began showing her mental infatuation. She wanted to know more and more about devotion to Lord Krishna, about the great devotee Mira and her dedication and self-renunciation in devotion of her Lord. How she went to BRINDABAN leaving the royal family of MEWAR. From that holy place how she went to DWARKA. She would ask questions of ‘GITGOVIND’ of JAIDEO, ‘KRISHNA KARN AMRITAM’ of BILWAMANGAL, ‘DIBYA PRABANDHAM’ of ALVAR saints of south. She would also ask about the concepts of NIMBARIKA SAMPRADAYA, BALLABH SAMPRADAYA, GAURHUYA VAISHNAVISM and also that if ISKCON. Sometimes she would request to explain ‘NAWDHA- BHAKTI’ and sometimes about RAM CHARIT MANAS. Sometimes she would stand up and dance imitating Mira. This was done when she was alone with the teacher. For this she would come ahead of the private tuition time. She would ask convoluted, intricate and devotional questions. Till now no one had been able to satisfy her mental quest. But there she had found a profound source of inspiration, a human treasure, and a fountain of heavenly bliss. She had read much about the great Swami Vivekananda. She had also read that the Principal of Scottish Church College, Calcutta, Dr. William Hastie, had said in 1876 about NARENDRA (Vivekananda) that he was a student with superb prodigious memory. He said that he had seen no student like him in all universities of the world where he visited. She would emphatically say to her friends and parents that C M Sir is the new incarnation of Vivekananda. ***********
I heard attentively the detailed story of Indi. I tried to delve deep into the psychic aspects of her mind. I came to know that she was exceptionally intelligent and genius. It looked to me that it was a rare case of genial and intellectual meet or confrontation of two counterparts ready to row on the turbulent bosom of the vast oceans of knowledge, devotion and bliss. The secrets, the mystery, the ecstasy and the holy sense of aggrandizement of soul were not explicable by common man. Surrendering of one’s entity before a Vivekananda like human prodigy, a superb store of knowledge and erudition cannot be explained even by Freud or his followers. She was herself well aware, well versed and well read in all subjects. Therefore her mind-level had risen up, far above the average surfaces. She didn’t care a fig for other’s comments or remarks. The Spartan evaluation made for her teacher by her fellow students would hassle her extremely. Sometimes she would object them vehemently and sometimes she took pity on them for their ignorance. I told my friend, “Remember the story of EKLAVYA and GURU DRONA. Though that was a different episode of Mahabharata yet here you could trace out the similarity of GURU-SHISHYA relations. You can also establish here a similarity of devotion of MIRA for KRISHNA. This relation transcends time, gender, age, code and all social taboos. Leave everything on time. It is a great healer. It will soon do away with your anxieties. Her father is transferred now. Indi will herself go from here. Your trouble will end automatically.” I said it in quick conclusion. I said it only for saying sake. True to say neither I nor he had been able to fathom the depth of upheaval of her mind. We had not been able to scale the turmoil in her psychic realm of mind. She was, as a matter of fact,
transported to a strange world of satisfaction, happiness, divinity and bliss. It had become an intrinsic matter of heart and spirit. It had gone far beyond the range of her physical or mental reasoning. It may move on long before seeking suitable adaptability in her mind and soul. The ultimate wish of all big and small beings is to get God. Omar Khayyam said, “God is, where love is.” So she had spread the canopy of pristine love over her teacher’s deity. Like Mira she thought she was not at all on wrong path. *******************
Indi then went to meet his wife. She was in her kitchen preparing tea. Indi went straight to her and touched her feet. She was taken aback to see the fairy like young girl. But soon she recognized her and blessed. MISHRAJI followed her up to the kitchen. He explained in short of the incident. Indi was in haste. Her driver was blowing horn. She retreated, bowing her head in obeisance, with wet eyes and disappeared. After a month the teacher got a registered letter. It was sent by Indi. He took out the letter. It was long and descriptive. He read the contents. It made his heart tremble. Waves of tumult rose up and down. He resolved not to reply. He preferred to write me its gist and asked for suggestions. I was perturbed. I felt disgusted. I wished my friend had never faced such situation. But God has created cures of all ailments. It is our knack which discovers them when needed. I taxed my mind and did pragmatic deliberation. Then I drafted a long letter and sent to him. It was addressed to her by her teacher. MISHRAJI liked the logical draft. With only a few alterations he sent the same on her new address. He thought that it was the best way to assuage her deep agony. After just about twenty five days she sent back a reply.
She wrote, “My most respected sir! I was happy to receive your reply. I kissed it knowing that it bore your hands’ touches. It gave me a pleasant feel that ‘you’re blessing me’. I felt devotional ecstasy. For few days I didn’t tear off the envelope and didn’t read the letter inside it. I kept it intact because, from inside, it sent off the fragrance of divinity of your total being. It whiffed off your graceful presence before my eyes. When I saw the envelope I just saw you. After few days I opened smoothly the envelope and took out and unfolded your kind letter. At that my heart was heaving up and down. Your pearl like hand-writing sparkled before my eyes. At one stretch I read it. Then again I read it slowly, understanding the implied meanings of the sentences. I read and re-read it but each time new meanings of some sentences shelled out in my mind. At first time I tried for one hour to read and then closed. Next day I again tried to read your didactic letter, made out the meanings of some of its passages, then again left it to read the next day. I repeated doing this for more than a week. Finally I took up to write this.
Sir! It is everyone’s right to see dreams. Everyone has the right to ride on one’s own wings of fantasy. I am not at all wrong if I do the same. For this you should inspire me, encourage me. But it is up to you to decide and do. However one thing is clear that I cannot resist saying, “I love your letters your hand-writing. I love your house, your kid and your wife. I love your pavements, your garden, and your library that consists of high-level books. I swear solemnly I shall continue loving it till I live.” When he read her letter he laughed lightly at her emotional resolve. But he was stupor-struck. He was at his wit’s end. He found it hard to explain ‘what had happened to this genius, mod-girl.’ He came to meet with me and stay for three days at my village. He came in an adjacent holiday. I was pleased to receive him at my home. This time I saw some lines of worries on his face. In our talks her name, her anecdotes haunted the most. I told him, “The answer to your prevailing poser lie in the analysis of large numbers of instincts in all human beings. Scholars grouped them roughly in two categories. First is ‘EROS’ and the second is ‘THANATOS’. Eros is non-sexual platonic love. It starts from attraction for some physical or material beauty and directs one’s mind to the contemplation of ‘divinity’. It is genuine, immaculate and transcendental. It goes on seeking the ‘Supreme Beauty’ irrespective of all mundane considerations and hurdles. It gives heavenly pleasure and supports natural debates. ‘THANATOS’ is that group of instincts that are earthly, sex-based and material. It instigates attraction towards beautiful body and enforces for physical pleasure and reproduction. It leads towards aggression, self-destruction and cruelty. It can also be said that ‘EROS’ is group of ‘life-instincts’ and ‘THANATOS’ is group of ‘death-instincts’. But a hard and fast line cannot be drawn between the two. It can change a bit under social or environmental ethos, conditions and drives.” My friend saw a feeble flash of light in what I had just said. He was engrossed in himself. His mind swirled inside thinking and meditating for a while. I didn’t disturb his trance. After fifteen minutes he came out of his inner swirl. He looked fresh. He was a bit cheerful. He had found out a way to tread on alone. He had found out a distinct level of ‘abstraction of human mind’. He shook off his all weird thoughts. He simply said, “Thank you very much! Now I shall send her a good reply. I know I had always seen positive aspects of all events, but in her case I could not judge well.” The rest of the time, he stayed at my house, passed in usual charms.
A week passed away quickly. Then the second had passed in an inconvenient silence. The third week was at its fag end. We had always maintained the norms that whoever departed, wrote first. I was waiting anxiously for his letter. The postman bore a weary look whenever he saw me; he had to shake his head in negative reply. But the uncomfortable situation ended at last. The postman rang a long call bell. On opening the door I saw a smiling man holding my long awaited letter. It had been sent by my friend. It was stamped at the cantonment post office. I thanked him and he gleefully U-turned and went away. Soon I took out the letter and read. My hand shook, body trembled and letter fell off my hand. I thumped down on the chair in utter grief. Indi’s father, the brigadier, was killed in a bulky landslide. Reportedly he was going in his army jeep to check an army post at high snowy ridge. Avalanche started in the mean time. He was a few km behind the post. A large chunk of the mountain-mass slid and fell upon his jeep. He was killed along with his aides. The news spread like wildfire. Bolt from the blue struck on Indi’s house. All in her family were put in the deep den of gloom and grief; in the deep dungeon of extreme sorrow and tears. This was a case of utter ill-luck for that highly promising and ambitious girl. Her uncle was the only guardian to look after her. The brigadier had left considerable property in her name. However that was not enough to push her to The Oxford. She expressed her wish to return to her former school. Here she wished to spend her rest of time in the close vicinity of MISHRAJI. She had planned to take there a private rented house and live in peace, reading and writing books. She wanted to lead a life of devoted woman writers like NAYANTARA SAHGAL, ARUNDATHI ROY, ANITA DESAI, SHASHI DESPANDE, ANITA NAIR, SHOBHA DE, JHUMPA LAHIRI….She thought that it would only be possible if she kept regular contact with her former teacher. He was still her role-model. She then wrote a long letter to him stating her eagerness of settling down near him. But this proposition from her side put him in a shaky situation. He conveyed the ongoing news from her side to me. He was almost in an embarrassing situation. He had no doubt over her sanctity and seriousness and selfless devotion. But he knew common people will assess everything in their own ways. Gradually they will pass absurd comments. He was aware that she might damage his reputation in future. He was simply a worldly man with all requisite reservations and live limitations. He cautiously maintained the subtle equilibrium of life in the society. To be peeved at such peculiar happening was but natural phenomena for him. He immediately wrote to me about her determination of settling down there. I had been immensely disgusted with this story but my friend’s problem was mine one. I wanted him to say her strictly to settle at Delhi or to anywhere else but not at that place. I was planning to write to him all this in detail but soon a letter came again from him. This letter gave me greater relief. My friend too was in celebrative mood. He called me to join the celebration at his residence. The ruse problem was automatically settled. When Indi’s uncle heard of her decision of settling at her old teacher’s town he became furious. Her uncle and aunt settled her marriage with an army pilot officer. He was young smart and well trained pilot. He came from a reputed army family. Everything was normal with him. When he saw her first he was charmed with her bewitching beauty. He immediately agreed to make her his life-partner. The problem was only with her. She had none else in her dream except her teacher. She did express her determination of living at the feet of her reverent one. But she had to succumb to their pressure at last. Her spirit was put in a narrow cage. She wept and fluttered her wings in vain. The orphan young damsel had none to listen to her. At last she wrote to her teacher about these developments. With her wet eyes she requested him to join the wedding ceremony at Amritsar. Now MISHRAJI, too, was sad. He was sad for her helplessness. He remembered her father’s plan to make her a Cambrian. All the old scenes of her frisk life in and out of the school revolved in his mind. At least no student he had seen of her caliber in his service period. Now she was a caged spirit. She had none in her circle to confide to, save and except her teacher. But the news of settlement of her marriage with a pilot officer of Indian Air Force gave the teacher great solace. He felt extreme satisfaction over the suitable match for her. He wrote her a letter of congratulation. He also informed his inability to attend her marriage ceremony due to some unavoidable reasons. This letter reached her in time. She was shocked to learn that MISHRAJI won’t join in the wedding ceremony. She had no way except accepting all that happen to pass against her wishes. The marriage ceremony was a lackluster show. Pomp and splendor was seen in boy’s side but girl’s side was without zeal and jest. On the honey-moon night she asked her husband, “Which God do you worship? Which great man you like the most? Who is your most favorite writer? Who is your best friend...etc”? The pilot officer was stupefied at all these off-beat questions. His mind was boggled at the absurdity of her untimely and uncouth dialogue. She was unaware of the occasion, time and situational requirements of the beginning hour of a newly married life. Her husband tried to bring her back to the practical levels of new life but she was lost in a world of her own. She was deeply engrossed in her own thoughts. She was oblivious of her hussy’s basic need that was her prime duty to fulfill. Night passed away but the story didn’t take THANATOS’ shape. However her husband was not exasperated. He was not nonplussed either. He felt rather a kind of ethereal throb in his heart. He was bewitched by her beauty of body as well as the sanctity of her soul. His huge embarrassment sublimed off when she said to him, “Would like to sing a sweet MEERA’s hymn or at least like to listen to? She was cool and confident. No stress was seen on her face. She was in her usual traits. He only nodded his head in affirmative and said, “Yes! I shall listen to. I don’t know singing.” She sang MEERA’s hymn in a melodious tone. It produced queer magic effect upon him. The turbulence of his mind was subdued by MEERA’s devotion-influence. It continued till late hours in the night. They didn’t know when they fell asleep. In the morning he got up and asked his wife to get ready to accompany him to her new house. She agreed and got ready. She had intense desire to get out the clutches of her uncle and aunt. Till noon everything was ready for their farewell. On a new Enova car they started the new journey of a conjugal life. Her new palatial house had an extraordinary look. Its façade was majestically decorated with flowers and festoons. She was given traditional welcome with all rituals. Everywhere it bore a royal look. She found everything beyond her expectations. One thing she found missing. There was no portrait of MEERA and KRISHNA on the walls but her wish too was soon fulfilled. Less than a week’s time had just passed when her husband was immediately called to join duty. His colleague had fallen ill. He had to take up his charge. She was willing to accompany him but he had no time to discuss and fulfill her wishes. He bade farewell to his all family members and parted off. At this time of crisis she was reminded of her reverent teacher. She wrote him a long letter stating every bit of details of her marriage, her husband, her honeymoon, in-laws house, army-environment, her new relatives, their treatment with her, how she respects and love them, her daily chores and duties, her day-long engagements and her studies in the new ambience. My friend read the letter and felt peeved. He had hoped that her marriage would divert her mind from him. He had a wish to get rid of her undue alignment with him. But this long letter shattered his hope, his wishes. He kept mum for a week. He thought his silence would dissuade her. She will gradually stop writing to him. She will finally forget him. But it was all hoping against a hope, wishing against a wish. Her next letter followed after just a fortnight. It was longer one. It was dreadful to read. It bore news of falling of a huge thunderbolt upon her head. Her husband was killed in an air crash. Her future stood at such a crossroad from where pitch black darkness started. For three days none came to meet her, see her and solace her. Fourth day a maid stealthily came and gave her something to eat. Her in-laws gave her a weird and estranged treatment henceforth. They scolded her fate and spit out all kinds of curses. Her misfortune lay in bundles over head. Therefore her letter contained the agony of an ancient mariner around whose neck the shot-dead albatross was hung.
“Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breathe nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean
Water,
water, everywhere
And all the boards did shrink;
Water,
water, everywhere,
Nor any
drop to drink.”
He was stunned to read her letter. He was put in deep agony. This time a wave of true sympathy rose up and down in fast rhythms in his heart. MISHRAJI’s wife was also shocked to know of her misfortune. While MISHRAJI was planning to write to her a condolence letter her second letter came by speed post. She had laid bare her heart heaving with condensed and super saturated mental agony. It took him few days to fumble out words and compose befitting sentences of a letter to be posted to her, while her third letter came informing him that she was coming to his town to settle in his vicinity. MISHRAJI consulted his wife with due deliberation. Finally he wrote to Indi Koura,“ You will be allowed to live in this house as his own daughter. You will be now an elder sister of Mini.” He posted the letter to her with his wife’s permission. When she got it she became pleased. She felt a ray of hope in gloomy life. Her uncle didn’t object her this time. They rather felt happy and relieved to get rid of her. She sold her few properties and bid farewell to her uncle and aunt. She was in extreme joy to be allowed to live at her new father’s feet.
(Propinquity) Profundity
An Ageless Love
It was a prestigious +2 High School just outside the cantonment area. The total strength of boys and girls of this renowned school was more than 1200. Numbers of teaching and non-teaching staff were 72. The Principal was a learned man. He was triple MA. His administrative skill was remarkable. He dealt with all students psychologically, affectionately and fatherly. He maintained correct and reserved relations with all. The teaching and non-teaching staffs of the school were satisfied. The result was excellent. The Principal was proud of his teachers. “It was teachers’ credit for the good results every year”, he said. All teachers of that +2 school were good, efficient and worthy. But among them one was a genius. He had god gifted elements. The principal would pay him high respect and love. He was the most popular teacher of the school, of the market and the cantonment area. His name was C M MISHRA. He was really a great scholar. He was authority of Hindi and English Literature, History and Philosophy. He was well read in these subjects. He had read most of the old and new publications of both literatures. The Principal would compare him with Swami Vivekananda for his merit of reading and studying. He would talk for hours on the philosophies of VYAS, KAPIL, KANNAD, RAMKRISHNA, Vivekananda, AUROBINDO, KABIRDAS, RAIDAS, DAYANAND, RAJA RAO, Marx, Angels, Darwin etc. He had authority over TULSI’s RAM CHARIT MANAS, SURDAS, JAIDEW, JAI SHANKAR PRASAD, NIRALA, PANT, MAHADEVI etc. When he entered his classes students would pay due respect to him and listen to his every word and respond to his suggestions. Mr. MISHRA had one son Raja and one daughter Mini. His wife was young and good looking. The children had started going to school. The teacher’s widow mother lived with them. Most students would request him for private tuitions but he did not like to afford time for that. Only few of them would press him with due respect and reverence and if that would become unavoidable for him then he would select few meritorious students only to teach at his house. For that work he would take no tuition fees. He did it quite fee-free. Among such meritorious students there was a beautiful, non-Sikh, Punjabi girl. Her father was a high profile military officer of the brigadier rank. She was the only child of her parents. Her name was Indi Koura. She had lost her mother in her childhood. She was brought up by her aunt. She was exceptionally beautiful, intelligent and studious. God had molded and shaped her with utmost perfection. Goddess of Learning might have cast her special reflection on Indi. From the beginning she was given the best type of education by her father. She was told to score highest marks in all subjects so that she could be sent to study at the Oxford, London. That University has the credit of producing 47 Nobel Laureates and 26 Prime Ministers for England. Therefore she was inspired from the very beginning to qualify for the most coveted admission. She herself paid utmost attention to her studies. She would soon finish her school tasks and read some chapters ahead of the monthly syllabi. She came by her own car every day. Her father was popular among his colleagues. He had earned laurels and several military awards. He was known for his chivalry. Indi was his only daughter. She was a +2 student of that school. She had offered Arts. English and Logic were her main subjects her interest. She came for extra consultation on these subjects with the teacher. She was very much impressed by the teacher’s depth of knowledge and technique of teaching. She would hear him with due attention. Gradually she started coming closer to him. She felt impact of stupor at his vast knowledge, sober attitude and divine teacher-ship. To her he was as deep as oceans, as high as mountains, as holy as Lord Shiva and as mysterious as Bermuda triangle. Mr. MISHRA observed it later. He felt annoyed at her attitudinal change. He was shocked to see her talking somewhat in unrestraint manner. He wanted to call her in the lonely verandah and to tell her affectionately, “My good girl; you are a good student. Your ambition is high. You must maintain teacher and taught relation with me or else stop coming here.” But he could not say so. He left it on time, the greatest healer. He hoped for self-sprouting of her awareness, wisdom and enlightenment. Time passed on steadily. The changed behavior of the teacher disheartened her. But finally no change in her attitude occurred. She failed to win over her own strange mental infatuation. She continued her Platonic love and adoration for him. In the mean time her father, the brigadier, got transfer order to go on war front at Indo-Pak border. The military man had to comply and report immediately. Next day the girl came to the teacher’s house in the early morning. She was well dressed. Her exquisite, new womanhood could not hide itself with her fashionable short clothes. She was tall, milky white, having commensurate feminine figure. People say that no girl of her match had ever come in the cantonment. She was a girl of very good nature. But that day was her last day in that place. She had pressed her father to continue living there. But he knew well the limitations of a military top brass. Therefore he took her school leaving certificate. Before leaving the town she felt an inner urge to meet with her own teacher and touch his feet. She went straight into his house. Without any hesitation she entered into its inner verandah. Teacher’s daughter, Mini, was running after ducks. Indi Koura went there and took up Mini in her lap. She called her Indi Sister. But Indi was soon interrupted. The teacher had come inside from the garden. He was used to perform PRANAYAAM there, in the open, and then work in the garden with spade and scour. The teacher was coarsely dressed in Dhoti and banyan. With rough and untrimmed hair and sweating brows, he stood there amazed. He thought in himself as to what made Indi come there in the early morning. Why she was dressed in such a style of ultra modernity! He couldn’t guess out all this. Indi put Mini down and ran to the teacher and touched his feet. Some dust of his feet got stuck to her finger which she put stealthily in the parting of her hair. “What made you come here so early in the morning?” he asked in surprise. “Sir!, my father got command to join at the front. We are therefore leaving today this town. Father’s staff took the SLC from the principal. I came here to get your blessings.” The teacher virtually took a sigh of relief. He blessed her whole- heartedly. He also blessed the head of the military staff that had sent the command. He only said, showing regret, “Why so soon? Your father had recently joined here. But I see this usually happens with good officers.”Indi was sad. Her face was weary. She wore a drained and exhausted look. Her eyes were getting wet. MISHRAJI wanted soon to get rid of her. He wanted to evade his wife seeing Indi. She was not in her usual dress that day. She was in such decoration that anyone could be attracted. Anyone could lose either heart or temper. **********************
MISHRAJI was my bosom friend. He would tell me everything, all ins and outs, all mysteries of his own life. It was his habit to maintain his reticence with his all colleagues as well as with all students in or out of the school. He talked the least even in his family. He would talk only what was desirable and suited to the situation. Sometimes people would become wry and wary with his cagey attitude. But under the canopy of his strong character, vast knowledge and deep erudition everyone had to bow down. He was good, kind and helpful. He took pity on all needy people. But he talked the least. However the case got reversed as and when I went to him. His all reservations would vanish away. In my presence he would talk so much that others got annoyed. It was customary for us to visit each other’s houses and stay for few days. Sometimes he came to my house to stay for some days. He would then talk and I had to be his patient listener. We were unique friends. Some would say, “The reticent C M Sir has turned to a new leaf of life; he has turned talkative in company of G N Sir.” And they laughed. Actually the scene was itself liable to attract attentions of the people known to us. We lived 180 km apart. We met once or twice in a year. But regular letter writing kept our contacts always alive. I have still preserved his letters. These are manuscripts of rare literature, a holy mark of sandal-paste on the forehead of time. In that juncture of time I happened to go to his school. The Principal, Mr. L B Singh was glad to greet me. The vice principal, Ravi Singh, too gave me warm welcome. I waited for him in the Principal’s chamber. At 3.15 the classes were over. C M MISHRA came from his class room. He was called by a peon to meet me there. His pleasure was beyond bounds to see me all of a sudden. He might have thought the rescue team leader had come. He shook hands and gave me a warm hug. From the Principal he took leave and we walked to his newly built house. Mini was happy to see me. I gave her 5 Star Munch. She became glad and ran away to her friends. His brother was yet to come from his school. MISHRA’s wife never appeared before me. She veiled herself from all senior colleagues of her husband. Though we were of same age but she wanted to pay me respect by doing so. His son Raja came from the school at 4.30 pm. He was happy to see me. I gave him a drawing note-book, color-box and a remote-control-toy-car. MISHRAJI asked Raja to serve us tea. *****************************
1. MISHRAJI told me the whole story of Indi Koura, her unique persona and the name and fame of her brigadier father. How she topped in the competition, held only for the private tuition batch. At first few months she had behaved as a docile and obedient pupil. She had proved herself a real genius among the rest. She had studied a wide range of books of religion, literature and ethics. She was really wise and witty. She could discuss at length on any subject. For few hours she could conduct debates. Her motto was to read well with full perfection. Primarily she had nurtured an idea that no teacher can satisfy her educational quests. She had found and felt it in all her former schools. All her teachers would try either to skip her questions or to dissuade her from asking any further question. Some would complain to the principal against her for disturbing the class. But here was a different scene. Here her mind boggled at the teacher’s profundity and sapience. Not only he satisfied her quests but also satisfied others with her. All students eagerly waited for his classes. All found pleasure in diving deep in the unfathomable depth of his knowledge. For few months she read as the most docile pupil. Then deviation started to disturb her mental equilibrium. She began showing her mental infatuation. She wanted to know more and more about devotion to Lord Krishna, about the great devotee Mira and her dedication and self-renunciation in devotion of her Lord. How she went to BRINDABAN leaving the royal family of MEWAR. From that holy place how she went to DWARKA. She would ask questions of ‘GITGOVIND’ of JAIDEO, ‘KRISHNA KARN AMRITAM’ of BILWAMANGAL, ‘DIBYA PRABANDHAM’ of ALVAR saints of south. She would also ask about the concepts of NIMBARIKA SAMPRADAYA, BALLABH SAMPRADAYA, GAURHUYA VAISHNAVISM and also that if ISKCON. Sometimes she would request to explain ‘NAWDHA- BHAKTI’ and sometimes about RAM CHARIT MANAS. Sometimes she would stand up and dance imitating Mira. This was done when she was alone with the teacher. For this she would come ahead of the private tuition time. She would ask convoluted, intricate and devotional questions. Till now no one had been able to satisfy her mental quest. But there she had found a profound source of inspiration, a human treasure, and a fountain of heavenly bliss. She had read much about the great Swami Vivekananda. She had also read that the Principal of Scottish Church College, Calcutta, Dr. William Hastie, had said in 1876 about NARENDRA (Vivekananda) that he was a student with superb prodigious memory. He said that he had seen no student like him in all universities of the world where he visited. She would emphatically say to her friends and parents that C M Sir is the new incarnation of Vivekananda. ***********
I heard attentively the detailed story of Indi. I tried to delve deep into the psychic aspects of her mind. I came to know that she was exceptionally intelligent and genius. It looked to me that it was a rare case of genial and intellectual meet or confrontation of two counterparts ready to row on the turbulent bosom of the vast oceans of knowledge, devotion and bliss. The secrets, the mystery, the ecstasy and the holy sense of aggrandizement of soul were not explicable by common man. Surrendering of one’s entity before a Vivekananda like human prodigy, a superb store of knowledge and erudition cannot be explained even by Freud or his followers. She was herself well aware, well versed and well read in all subjects. Therefore her mind-level had risen up, far above the average surfaces. She didn’t care a fig for other’s comments or remarks. The Spartan evaluation made for her teacher by her fellow students would hassle her extremely. Sometimes she would object them vehemently and sometimes she took pity on them for their ignorance. I told my friend, “Remember the story of EKLAVYA and GURU DRONA. Though that was a different episode of Mahabharata yet here you could trace out the similarity of GURU-SHISHYA relations. You can also establish here a similarity of devotion of MIRA for KRISHNA. This relation transcends time, gender, age, code and all social taboos. Leave everything on time. It is a great healer. It will soon do away with your anxieties. Her father is transferred now. Indi will herself go from here. Your trouble will end automatically.” I said it in quick conclusion. I said it only for saying sake. True to say neither I nor he had been able to fathom the depth of upheaval of her mind. We had not been able to scale the turmoil in her psychic realm of mind. She was, as a matter of fact,
transported to a strange world of satisfaction, happiness, divinity and bliss. It had become an intrinsic matter of heart and spirit. It had gone far beyond the range of her physical or mental reasoning. It may move on long before seeking suitable adaptability in her mind and soul. The ultimate wish of all big and small beings is to get God. Omar Khayyam said, “God is, where love is.” So she had spread the canopy of pristine love over her teacher’s deity. Like Mira she thought she was not at all on wrong path. *******************
Indi then went to meet his wife. She was in her kitchen preparing tea. Indi went straight to her and touched her feet. She was taken aback to see the fairy like young girl. But soon she recognized her and blessed. MISHRAJI followed her up to the kitchen. He explained in short of the incident. Indi was in haste. Her driver was blowing horn. She retreated, bowing her head in obeisance, with wet eyes and disappeared. After a month the teacher got a registered letter. It was sent by Indi. He took out the letter. It was long and descriptive. He read the contents. It made his heart tremble. Waves of tumult rose up and down. He resolved not to reply. He preferred to write me its gist and asked for suggestions. I was perturbed. I felt disgusted. I wished my friend had never faced such situation. But God has created cures of all ailments. It is our knack which discovers them when needed. I taxed my mind and did pragmatic deliberation. Then I drafted a long letter and sent to him. It was addressed to her by her teacher. MISHRAJI liked the logical draft. With only a few alterations he sent the same on her new address. He thought that it was the best way to assuage her deep agony. After just about twenty five days she sent back a reply.
She wrote, “My most respected sir! I was happy to receive your reply. I kissed it knowing that it bore your hands’ touches. It gave me a pleasant feel that ‘you’re blessing me’. I felt devotional ecstasy. For few days I didn’t tear off the envelope and didn’t read the letter inside it. I kept it intact because, from inside, it sent off the fragrance of divinity of your total being. It whiffed off your graceful presence before my eyes. When I saw the envelope I just saw you. After few days I opened smoothly the envelope and took out and unfolded your kind letter. At that my heart was heaving up and down. Your pearl like hand-writing sparkled before my eyes. At one stretch I read it. Then again I read it slowly, understanding the implied meanings of the sentences. I read and re-read it but each time new meanings of some sentences shelled out in my mind. At first time I tried for one hour to read and then closed. Next day I again tried to read your didactic letter, made out the meanings of some of its passages, then again left it to read the next day. I repeated doing this for more than a week. Finally I took up to write this.
Sir! It is everyone’s right to see dreams. Everyone has the right to ride on one’s own wings of fantasy. I am not at all wrong if I do the same. For this you should inspire me, encourage me. But it is up to you to decide and do. However one thing is clear that I cannot resist saying, “I love your letters your hand-writing. I love your house, your kid and your wife. I love your pavements, your garden, and your library that consists of high-level books. I swear solemnly I shall continue loving it till I live.” When he read her letter he laughed lightly at her emotional resolve. But he was stupor-struck. He was at his wit’s end. He found it hard to explain ‘what had happened to this genius, mod-girl.’ He came to meet with me and stay for three days at my village. He came in an adjacent holiday. I was pleased to receive him at my home. This time I saw some lines of worries on his face. In our talks her name, her anecdotes haunted the most. I told him, “The answer to your prevailing poser lie in the analysis of large numbers of instincts in all human beings. Scholars grouped them roughly in two categories. First is ‘EROS’ and the second is ‘THANATOS’. Eros is non-sexual platonic love. It starts from attraction for some physical or material beauty and directs one’s mind to the contemplation of ‘divinity’. It is genuine, immaculate and transcendental. It goes on seeking the ‘Supreme Beauty’ irrespective of all mundane considerations and hurdles. It gives heavenly pleasure and supports natural debates. ‘THANATOS’ is that group of instincts that are earthly, sex-based and material. It instigates attraction towards beautiful body and enforces for physical pleasure and reproduction. It leads towards aggression, self-destruction and cruelty. It can also be said that ‘EROS’ is group of ‘life-instincts’ and ‘THANATOS’ is group of ‘death-instincts’. But a hard and fast line cannot be drawn between the two. It can change a bit under social or environmental ethos, conditions and drives.” My friend saw a feeble flash of light in what I had just said. He was engrossed in himself. His mind swirled inside thinking and meditating for a while. I didn’t disturb his trance. After fifteen minutes he came out of his inner swirl. He looked fresh. He was a bit cheerful. He had found out a way to tread on alone. He had found out a distinct level of ‘abstraction of human mind’. He shook off his all weird thoughts. He simply said, “Thank you very much! Now I shall send her a good reply. I know I had always seen positive aspects of all events, but in her case I could not judge well.” The rest of the time, he stayed at my house, passed in usual charms.
A week passed away quickly. Then the second had passed in an inconvenient silence. The third week was at its fag end. We had always maintained the norms that whoever departed, wrote first. I was waiting anxiously for his letter. The postman bore a weary look whenever he saw me; he had to shake his head in negative reply. But the uncomfortable situation ended at last. The postman rang a long call bell. On opening the door I saw a smiling man holding my long awaited letter. It had been sent by my friend. It was stamped at the cantonment post office. I thanked him and he gleefully U-turned and went away. Soon I took out the letter and read. My hand shook, body trembled and letter fell off my hand. I thumped down on the chair in utter grief. Indi’s father, the brigadier, was killed in a bulky landslide. Reportedly he was going in his army jeep to check an army post at high snowy ridge. Avalanche started in the mean time. He was a few km behind the post. A large chunk of the mountain-mass slid and fell upon his jeep. He was killed along with his aides. The news spread like wildfire. Bolt from the blue struck on Indi’s house. All in her family were put in the deep den of gloom and grief; in the deep dungeon of extreme sorrow and tears. This was a case of utter ill-luck for that highly promising and ambitious girl. Her uncle was the only guardian to look after her. The brigadier had left considerable property in her name. However that was not enough to push her to The Oxford. She expressed her wish to return to her former school. Here she wished to spend her rest of time in the close vicinity of MISHRAJI. She had planned to take there a private rented house and live in peace, reading and writing books. She wanted to lead a life of devoted woman writers like NAYANTARA SAHGAL, ARUNDATHI ROY, ANITA DESAI, SHASHI DESPANDE, ANITA NAIR, SHOBHA DE, JHUMPA LAHIRI….She thought that it would only be possible if she kept regular contact with her former teacher. He was still her role-model. She then wrote a long letter to him stating her eagerness of settling down near him. But this proposition from her side put him in a shaky situation. He conveyed the ongoing news from her side to me. He was almost in an embarrassing situation. He had no doubt over her sanctity and seriousness and selfless devotion. But he knew common people will assess everything in their own ways. Gradually they will pass absurd comments. He was aware that she might damage his reputation in future. He was simply a worldly man with all requisite reservations and live limitations. He cautiously maintained the subtle equilibrium of life in the society. To be peeved at such peculiar happening was but natural phenomena for him. He immediately wrote to me about her determination of settling down there. I had been immensely disgusted with this story but my friend’s problem was mine one. I wanted him to say her strictly to settle at Delhi or to anywhere else but not at that place. I was planning to write to him all this in detail but soon a letter came again from him. This letter gave me greater relief. My friend too was in celebrative mood. He called me to join the celebration at his residence. The ruse problem was automatically settled. When Indi’s uncle heard of her decision of settling at her old teacher’s town he became furious. Her uncle and aunt settled her marriage with an army pilot officer. He was young smart and well trained pilot. He came from a reputed army family. Everything was normal with him. When he saw her first he was charmed with her bewitching beauty. He immediately agreed to make her his life-partner. The problem was only with her. She had none else in her dream except her teacher. She did express her determination of living at the feet of her reverent one. But she had to succumb to their pressure at last. Her spirit was put in a narrow cage. She wept and fluttered her wings in vain. The orphan young damsel had none to listen to her. At last she wrote to her teacher about these developments. With her wet eyes she requested him to join the wedding ceremony at Amritsar. Now MISHRAJI, too, was sad. He was sad for her helplessness. He remembered her father’s plan to make her a Cambrian. All the old scenes of her frisk life in and out of the school revolved in his mind. At least no student he had seen of her caliber in his service period. Now she was a caged spirit. She had none in her circle to confide to, save and except her teacher. But the news of settlement of her marriage with a pilot officer of Indian Air Force gave the teacher great solace. He felt extreme satisfaction over the suitable match for her. He wrote her a letter of congratulation. He also informed his inability to attend her marriage ceremony due to some unavoidable reasons. This letter reached her in time. She was shocked to learn that MISHRAJI won’t join in the wedding ceremony. She had no way except accepting all that happen to pass against her wishes. The marriage ceremony was a lackluster show. Pomp and splendor was seen in boy’s side but girl’s side was without zeal and jest. On the honey-moon night she asked her husband, “Which God do you worship? Which great man you like the most? Who is your most favorite writer? Who is your best friend...etc”? The pilot officer was stupefied at all these off-beat questions. His mind was boggled at the absurdity of her untimely and uncouth dialogue. She was unaware of the occasion, time and situational requirements of the beginning hour of a newly married life. Her husband tried to bring her back to the practical levels of new life but she was lost in a world of her own. She was deeply engrossed in her own thoughts. She was oblivious of her hussy’s basic need that was her prime duty to fulfill. Night passed away but the story didn’t take THANATOS’ shape. However her husband was not exasperated. He was not nonplussed either. He felt rather a kind of ethereal throb in his heart. He was bewitched by her beauty of body as well as the sanctity of her soul. His huge embarrassment sublimed off when she said to him, “Would like to sing a sweet MEERA’s hymn or at least like to listen to? She was cool and confident. No stress was seen on her face. She was in her usual traits. He only nodded his head in affirmative and said, “Yes! I shall listen to. I don’t know singing.” She sang MEERA’s hymn in a melodious tone. It produced queer magic effect upon him. The turbulence of his mind was subdued by MEERA’s devotion-influence. It continued till late hours in the night. They didn’t know when they fell asleep. In the morning he got up and asked his wife to get ready to accompany him to her new house. She agreed and got ready. She had intense desire to get out the clutches of her uncle and aunt. Till noon everything was ready for their farewell. On a new Enova car they started the new journey of a conjugal life. Her new palatial house had an extraordinary look. Its façade was majestically decorated with flowers and festoons. She was given traditional welcome with all rituals. Everywhere it bore a royal look. She found everything beyond her expectations. One thing she found missing. There was no portrait of MEERA and KRISHNA on the walls but her wish too was soon fulfilled. Less than a week’s time had just passed when her husband was immediately called to join duty. His colleague had fallen ill. He had to take up his charge. She was willing to accompany him but he had no time to discuss and fulfill her wishes. He bade farewell to his all family members and parted off. At this time of crisis she was reminded of her reverent teacher. She wrote him a long letter stating every bit of details of her marriage, her husband, her honeymoon, in-laws house, army-environment, her new relatives, their treatment with her, how she respects and love them, her daily chores and duties, her day-long engagements and her studies in the new ambience. My friend read the letter and felt peeved. He had hoped that her marriage would divert her mind from him. He had a wish to get rid of her undue alignment with him. But this long letter shattered his hope, his wishes. He kept mum for a week. He thought his silence would dissuade her. She will gradually stop writing to him. She will finally forget him. But it was all hoping against a hope, wishing against a wish. Her next letter followed after just a fortnight. It was longer one. It was dreadful to read. It bore news of falling of a huge thunderbolt upon her head. Her husband was killed in an air crash. Her future stood at such a crossroad from where pitch black darkness started. For three days none came to meet her, see her and solace her. Fourth day a maid stealthily came and gave her something to eat. Her in-laws gave her a weird and estranged treatment henceforth. They scolded her fate and spit out all kinds of curses. Her misfortune lay in bundles over head. Therefore her letter contained the agony of an ancient mariner around whose neck the shot-dead albatross was hung.
“Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breathe nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean
Water,
water, everywhere
And all the boards did shrink;
Water,
water, everywhere,
Nor any
drop to drink.”
He was stunned to read her letter. He was put in deep agony. This time a wave of true sympathy rose up and down in fast rhythms in his heart. MISHRAJI’s wife was also shocked to know of her misfortune. While MISHRAJI was planning to write to her a condolence letter her second letter came by speed post. She had laid bare her heart heaving with condensed and super saturated mental agony. It took him few days to fumble out words and compose befitting sentences of a letter to be posted to her, while her third letter came informing him that she was coming to his town to settle in his vicinity. MISHRAJI consulted his wife with due deliberation. Finally he wrote to Indi Koura,“ You will be allowed to live in this house as his own daughter. You will be now an elder sister of Mini.” He posted the letter to her with his wife’s permission. When she got it she became pleased. She felt a ray of hope in gloomy life. Her uncle didn’t object her this time. They rather felt happy and relieved to get rid of her. She sold her few properties and bid farewell to her uncle and aunt. She was in extreme joy to be allowed to live at h
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