Read A Bend in the River of Life Online

Authors: Budh Aditya Roy

A Bend in the River of Life (23 page)

Precisely at that moment, Rana thought he clearly saw high above the flame and plume of smoke, Keka riding a Pegasus toward the heavens. A student of the Bible class in the missionary school, the verses of the scripture began reverberating in Rana's desolate mind, “All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field. The grass withers and the flowers fall, because the breath of the Lord blows on them. Surely the people are grass. The grass withers and the flowers fall but the word of our God stands forever.” (Isaiah 40: 6–8).

And sure enough, as much as those withered grass and fallen flowers are replaced by the new grass and new flowers, new men are also born as offspring of the departed ones in different garb, different texture, different mind, different memory and different role play. Keka's death is a myth; she is survived by her two beautiful offspring to carry her torch in the River of Life to maintain its mandate to keep flowing relentlessly forever. Thus the River of Life continues with its timeless and ageless journey through the hills and mountains,
dales and valleys, prairies and pampas, woods and lakes, seas and oceans to its distant destiny, the ever elusive Eternity.

In less than two hours all that remained of Keka were the ashes. The part of the ashes that were directly attributed to her navel were put into an urn and immersed in the holy River Ganges next to the crematorium. The significance of that ritual was based on the belief that the remains of the cremated body would be consecrated with the touch of the holy water and in course of time would mingle with the soil of the river bed, enabling the departed soul to rest in peace. To begin with, the whole existence of mankind is rooted to the earth. They emerge from the dust of the earth and to the dust of the earth are they destined to merge.

LIFE AFTER KEKA

B
y the time the dusk descended, all the friends and family left one by one except Rajani, Devika and Kamala. At that hour of pain and grief for Rana and Saurav, Rajani's mind would not want to leave. Others had to carry on with their lives, but Rajani's life was too inextricably intertwined with Rana's to leave him in the lurch. Just when she thought that her duties of this season of life was over and Rana's life was well reposed in Keka's care, tragedy struck and changed the course of his life forever. To Devika and Kamala also Rana was like a son. They too decided to remain with him for a few days to console him and put his fragmented life back in track.

This, in essence, is the intrinsic nature of love. As a picturesque fountain on the distant mountain top gives itself up and cascades down the slopes gracefully to form a formidable river to create and sustain great civilizations for thousands and thousands of years without yearning for any reciprocity; as the flower blooms only to display its beauty to its beholder or breathes its fragrance to the sky to spread its delightful scent to the pleasure-seekers without expecting anything in return; so too does love ever ready to do anything, at any moment and at any cost for the object of love, not seeking any fulfillment in return.

Before the friends and family left for the day, Rana had already announced that according to the joint wishes of Keka and him their baby daughter would be christened, “Smita,” meaning, “She, who wears a perpetual smile.” With Saurav on his arms, Rana was talking to Rajani, Kamala and Devika. Baby Smita came up in their discussions.
Throughout the emotion-filled day his mind was also crying for Smita, for she would never see her mother and never know what a mother's love was like.

Rana called the nursing home to ask if he could bring his aunts at that hour to see his baby daughter. Though the visiting hours were over for the day, they gave the permission considering that he was tied up during the day to perform the last rites of his departed wife. So he left with Devika and Kamala to see Smita. When they arrived at the nursing home a new nurse was on duty. She was actually playing with Smita to make her smile. The nurse appeared to be captivated by Smita's smile. Baby Smita was brought near the glass window. Looking at her from the other side of the glass pane and seeing her smile in close succession, Devika and Kamala had no doubt that her name could not be more appropriate.

The nurse said the baby was healthy and if she continued to remain so, she would be released in a day or two. In anticipation of the birth of the baby, Rana bought a beautiful silver rattler even before Keka went to the hospital for delivery. He sent it inside, requesting the nurse to rattle it gently near baby Smita to see her reaction at the soothing music. Smita's response was immediate. She was looking at it, trying to hold it and smiling at the tinkling sound. A thought passed through his mind that having decided to mother baby Smita so single-mindedly, how much Keka would have loved her adoring smile! He looked at Devika and Kamala. They were wiping their tears. Similar chain of thoughts must have been going through their minds also. The tragedy of little Smita was bound to touch the heart of any normal human being.

They came back soon to be around Saurav to tell him about his little sister before he would go to bed. He was eating dinner and talking to Rajani and his nanny. Rana told him that they had gone to see his little sister Smita. That made him animated, prompting him to ask many questions about his little sister—“How big was Smita? Did she talk? Was she playing or sleeping? Did she know his
name? Did she come to Rana's arms?” Rana responded to his questions to his apparent satisfaction. He assured Saurav that next morning he would take him and great-grandma to see his sister. He felt pleased. He already finished his dinner. Now was the time for him to come to his daddy's lap and continue his discussions till he would feel sleepy and would be put away to sleep.

Next morning Rana drove Rajani and Saurav to the nursing home to greet Smita. Kamala and Devika too accompanied them, for they had so much compassion for her the night before. Saurav became excited to see his little sister. He wanted to touch her, hug her and kiss her. The nurse on duty brought her near the glass window. He kissed on the window pane meant for his sister.

Rajani said, “Smita would grow up to be as beautiful as her mother.”

Kamala and Devika also concurred with her. While wiping her tears Rajani again said, “I cannot make out God's justice. Such a divine baby, she will not know her mother ever!”

As Rajani was lamenting, Saurav saw Smita smiling and said, “Daddy, look, look, sister is smiling at me.”

Rajani also saw her smile and said, “What a beautiful smile she is blessed with! She could not have a better name,”

Saurav asked his dad to take his sister home with them. Rana explained to him that the doctor would allow her to go home only after a few days and he was the one who would come and take her home. He was happy to hear that and nodded his head in agreement. Eventually, little Smita came home. Mita and Rana went to the nursing home along with Saurav to obtain her release. Friends and family were present at Rana's residence to accord her a fond and affectionate homecoming. But, most of all, it was a field day for Saurav. He was happy, he was proud and he would play with his little sister all day long.

All these days Saurav asked about his mother many times. Rana kept on telling him that his Mama had gone to the Heavens, the
house of God. No one would be able to see her any more, but she would come every night to kiss him and his little sister in their sleep. Saurav trusted that story by nodding his head. Nevertheless, he would like to ask about his mother once in a while to make sure and be contented with the tale that Keka would really come to kiss him and Smita at night.

The nature of love is this. It is always imbued with a blind trust and purity of conviction in matters relating to the object of love.

On the thirteenth day of passing of Keka, religious rites were performed to make certain that her soul would rest in abiding peace. It was a day of prayer and tear. But there were lots of smiles too, mainly because of the two adorable babies that Keka left behind as her humble contribution to the River of Life, the essence of which was the eternal interplay between joy and sorrow, hope and despair, light and darkness. When one comes to play, the other lurks behind the curtain, biding its time. Thus time goes on and life glides along. And on the planks of tear and laughter alternately, the River of Life flows on relentlessly to its far away destiny, the ever imponderable Eternity.

Rajani was undoubtedly impressed with Keka's sense of responsibility and congenial nature. She really believed that Keka was a lotus among the lilies. She did not have a lot of good things to say about the “new crop of women,” who she thought “lost their senses in the newly found freedom.” Be that as it may, the unlikely and untimely demise of Keka muted Rajani's feelings. But giving up in despair was not in her genes. That explained why she stayed along with Rana and his children to boost his morale and oversee the physical and mental growth of Saurav and Smita. At eighty-one, she became frail but her mind still remained sharp. She was not expected to do a lot physically, but she could supervise the nannies as closely as ever. Yet she was hands-on. On some days, she would massage the two babies with olive oil under the winter sun and talk to them and sing baby songs. If she would stop ever, Saurav would insist upon her to sing
the same song all over again. It was an immense pleasure for Rana to watch that scene in the late mornings on Sundays and holidays. Saurav seemed to enjoy talking to Rajani endlessly. But it was never tiring for her. Rather she appeared to be drawing unlimited energy from him. While massaging Smita with olive oil on her lap, Rajani would say, “Look, look, she will grow up to be so beautiful. She will be the prettiest among all our women. What a pleasing smile she is blessed with.”

Rana would look forward to Sunday mornings to be with Rajani and his two children to enjoy that spectacle of pure joy. Yet the only music that was resonating in the emptiness of his lonely heart was the solitary tune of a dirge, because Keka was not physically there to share in his delight. Many a times, he choked up to suppress his tears, for he did not want to show his sorrow to Saurav lest that would make him sullen with the thought of his departed Mama.

Saurav and Smita were growing up rapidly under the loving care of their great-grandma Rajani with the help of the two nannies. One daily visitor was Mita. No matter what, she would come and be with her grandchildren for few hours and offer her helping hand to Rajani. She made it her duty to help Rajani in her daunting task of rearing up the children of the gem of her eyes at that ripe old age. Among others who used to come and give their love and affection to Saurav and Smita was Ramnath. He was an invariable weekend visitor. He became seventy-two and retired from his law practice completely, leaving the entire responsibility of his law firm with his son Sudhir. Apart from deriving immense pleasure of seeing his great-grandchildren, he also had a favorite pastime to nostalgically ruminate over the days long gone by with Rajani.

Birth or death, pleasure or pain, nothing keeps the River of Life from flowing even for a moment. Thus winter gave way to rejuvenating spring and spring ushered in the sizzle of the summer. Soon Smita learned to crawl, making it more enjoyable for Saurav to play with his little sister. To encourage Smita, he would also crawl side by
side with her and then go ahead of her, inducing her to chase him. And the house would be filled with the incomparable giggle of Smita.

Rajani's eighty-second birthday sneaked in. Rana made arrangements to celebrate the day. She strongly discouraged him, saying that the family was still in mourning. Rana said that the celebration was as much for her as for the two children. Ramnath and Mita supported him. On that day, Saurav and Smita were dressed up in new clothes along with Rajani. They also received their new toys. It was a celebration for both old and new. Despite the underlying bereavement, the measured celebration breathed new life into Saurav and Smita. And without an iota of doubt, their joy filled Rajani with unsurpassed delight. And that is how it should be.

The River of Life is a composition of old and new. It embraces both with equal grace. No one has seen the beginning of the River of Life and no one is likely to see the end, but it is always in a state of flux. The only constant in this flux is change. Change is the sign of life, stagnation is death. Change is in lock-step with time. Time is an inseparable concomitant to the River of Life. Nothing escapes the ravage of time. Every matter is measured in a span of time. When the span comes to an end, the matter decays and dies and is replaced by the new. Compared to Eternity, everything in life seems to be a flash in the pan. What appears fresh and new today will wear out like a garment in no time. What looks old and worn out today will soon come back to life in a new garb. Swaying between old and new the River of Life winds its way to it's far away destiny, the ever reclusive Eternity.

The autumn festivals came and went in subdued fashion. The only sparks of light were Saurav and Smita. She learnt to walk with a contagious giggle. Once again, Saurav became the principal cheerleader, encouraging and helping her little sister to walk. He would not let any visitor of the family leave the house without showing how his little sister walked. To see Smita growing up under his adoring eyes was a matter of great pride and immense joy for
Saurav. Finally, there was someone of his age group who was ready to play with him. Saurav's third birthday arrived in close proximity. The two families joined together again to observe the day, enabling Saurav and Smita to rejoice with the abandon of the playful antelopes. Though the celebration was for Saurav, the main attraction was Smita. Her smile, her giggle and her walk, all came under affectionate scrutiny. Saurav enthusiastically supported his sister's antics and enjoyed the festivities associated with his birthday thoroughly.

Nevertheless, Rana was getting worried over the next event of the family calendar. Smita's birthday and her mother Keka's death anniversary were approaching fast. Rana was in a quandary, rather distressed at the thought as to how to celebrate the birth of Smita and observe the memorial for her mother on two consecutive days. It would be a terrible tragedy he thought if Smita's birth were to be muddled with the passing of Keka as if she connived with her mother's death. It did not take long for him to decide on the course of action. On a silent and sleepless night a realization dawned on him that there was no need to observe two separate ceremonies for birth and death. Rather it would be a single and indivisible two-day celebration for life and life only—the River of Life, for Keka sacrificed her life not for nothing. She gave her life to bring in another new life. He heaved a sigh of relief and thanked God for giving him the light.

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