Episode 1: Chapter 1: What If Our Dreams Come True! An Uncommon Meeting with Lord Siva

Chapter 1

Somehow, I reached outskirts of Courtalam. I left my place with just one rupee in my pocket and I could hardly afford to use up this treasure. The travel on foot and hitchhike took several days. I relied on a number of tricks to survive on the way.

It was the year 1945, or so. Barring a few rich zamindars who owned cars, people used bullock carts and horse carriages for commuting. The motorized vehicles that crisscrossed in many towns and villages mostly belonged to the British and their army. The country was up in arms against the British rule. Even while Gandhiji spearheaded Satyagraha, a silent, non-violent, non-cooperation movement, there was widespread violence against the Whites everywhere. Religious division was rearing its nasty head all over and there was a complete breakdown of trust between Muslims and Hindus. The Second World War was coming to an end. The British seemed to be veering round to a view that it would be impossible to continue to deny freedom to our country and rather, it would be a burden to them if they stayed on here longer. News about serious negotiations for independence was up in the air. News and rumors spread by word of mouth. Confusion prevailed among people as to what to believe and what not to. People gathered in street corners discussing, debating, questioning, arguing and many times fighting among themselves over the pros and cons of freedom and independence. Many had doubts in mind about a free India, though the overall mood was in favor of independence. Whether everyone genuinely believed in having independence or not there was a clamor for it everywhere. People’s expectations about life after freedom was running high, though there was no dearth of skeptics.

Stopping at several places, listening to a number of public speeches at street corners, staying in stone 'mandaps' (open stone halls) for the nights, filling my stomach eating whatever was distributed as 'prasad' in small temples, I managed to reach Shencottai, a picturesque agricultural town near Courtallam. I saw several lakes – big and small – on the way to Shencottai. Fine carpets of green paddy fields surrounded by lush green hills decorated the landscape. Abundant water flowed between mud 'bunds' into the paddy fields. The soil was very rich and fertile. Clouds sat on the hill tops and a gentle breeze Thendral, as they call it, swept through the valley between the small hills. I saw banyan trees everywhere on the way blanketing both sides of the main trunk roads. I constantly felt the rushing of energy in me despite my tiring journey by foot.

As I approached the outskirts of Shencottai, I saw a small congregation of people sitting on the floor, underneath a banyan tree. The people were mostly silent or whispering among themselves. A 'sadhu' in saffron dress, with eyes closed, was sitting before them. Even in the semi-dark twilight, with the only other light coming from a small lamp lit by his side, the 'sadhu' seemed to be radiant. There was a peculiar aura surrounding him. The crowd patiently waited for the ‘sadhu’ to open his eyes.

Out of curiosity, I sat down quietly among the group. I learnt from the person next to me that the 'sadhu' gave divine blessings when he opened his eyes and that his blessings had mystical powers. He told me  that the 'sadhu' had cured many illnesses, finalized very difficult marriage alliances, blessed couples for children, repaired broken relationships and miraculously helped solve a myriad of other problems affecting people’s lives.

Soon the Sadhu opened his eyes, made strange noises, invoked many gods and goddesses, spoke with a gruff voice, offered 'vibhuthi' to some and 'kumkum' to some others, touched a few people on their heads and brushed others away. I watched everything with fun, but soon I got disinterested and left the place. I had to reach Shencottai before it became very dark and find a place to stay for the night so that I could be ready early next morning to leave for Courtallam. Courtallam would be my first destination in my proposed encounter with Lord Siva.

Thanks to a small 'agraharam', a locality where Brahmins lived predominantly, I found a Perumal (Lord Vishnu) temple at one end of the street. The temple offered food generously that night. I ate stomach-full and waited outside for the temple to be closed. Soon the 'agraharam' became quiet. I found a small corner, outside the temple, to sleep.

*****

How it all began - What, If Our Dreams Come True! An Uncommon Meeting with Lord Siva

How it all began.....

I was seventeen or so when that happened in the mid 1940s. I was single, had lost my parents and lived in a small village, somewhere closer to Shencottai, a prominent town at the foot of Podhigai hills that formed part of Western Ghats in Tamil Nadu in Southern India and a gateway to the adjacent State of Kerala. Thanks to the financial support from a Christian institution and the kind priest at the local church, I had just completed my school final examinations.

One day, I had acute stomach pain and a few friendly neighbors admitted me to the local hospital run by a missionary. Doctors were unable to diagnose my condition, in the poorly equipped facility. I held my stomach between my both hands and squeezed it. A dilute carbonate mixture that they gave me provided no relief. Besides, I ate nothing for the whole day and I was vomiting constantly. It was midnight. With unbearable pain, I said all the prayers that came to my mind and prayed intensely. I didn’t know when I slept.

I was jolted in the middle of sleep. I perspired and trembled. Was it a nightmare? I just had a dream where Lord Siva appeared before me. He looked so real to me like the one I always saw in pictures. He was seated in a deep meditative posture and opened his eyes briefly to look at me. He saw me suffering with pain. I saw myself standing up in great devotion and prostrating before him.

“I know you are suffering from pain. You will be relieved of this pain now.”

With folded hands, I fell flat again and prostrated, tears rolling down my eyes.

“But on one condition!”Lord Siva said.

I just wanted relief from my stomach pain. I was willing to do anything. I just nodded my head in acknowledgement that I was listening.

“You would meet with me in seven places!”

‘Oh, that won’t be a great deal’ I thought. He seemed to be reading my mind.

“But, it is not going to be easy for you. Are you ready? Your pain will go away now.” said Lord Siva.

Again I nodded in silence. At that moment, the only thing I wanted was relief from my pain.

“Okay! You have my blessing. Remember to meet with me in seven places. Don’t take it lightly.” Saying this, he disappeared into a cloud of thick white smoke which suddenly appeared from nowhere and I was woken up.

Everything looked very hazy. I noticed that my stomach pain had disappeared. I slowly rose from my bed. I prayed intently, “Oh, Lord Siva! Give me the strength to come and meet with you in seven places as you ordained. Give me the strength to maintain my commitment”

I called the duty nurse, a Christian nun, a kind lady. I told her of my dream and the relief I had from my pain. She was puzzled and didn’t know how to respond. Closing her eyes, she just touched my head and prayed. She asked me to stay on for the rest of the night and leave early morning. She asked me whether I would be meeting with the Christian Father and I answered positively.

The next morning, I left the hospital and walked to the Father’s place. He must have been in his morning prayers. I waited to see him outside his hostel. When I told him about the relief I had after I had my dream, he looked at me pensively for a moment and smiled. “May Jesus Bless You!” was all that he said to me. I took leave from him when it seemed he just remembered something and he asked me to wait for a moment. He went inside and brought a talisman. He tied it to me on my upper arm and said, “Remember to keep this safely with you all the time.”

I spent the next several weeks without a clue, but the thoughts kept returning back. “I must meet with Lord Siva in seven places.”

“What did he mean by that?’

I went to Thangasami, our village ‘karnam’ (the village chief) who was my well-wisher. I told him about my dream and sought his opinion. Thangasami was a very pious and god-fearing man. He took me to a local astrologer Muneeswaran. The astrologer drew some squares on the floor with a piece of chalk and threw a few small conches. He closed his eyes for several minutes and finally told me:

“Lord Siva wants you to visit him at seven places that are known for his temples. Courtallam, Tenkasi, Sivashailam, Ambasamudram, Papanasam, Brahmadesam, Thiruppudaimaruthoor and many more places in our Tirunelveli region are great ‘Sivasthals’ – abodes of Lord Siva. Many of these temples are very old, may be thousands of years and are very sacred places. You must visit seven Siva temples and have HIS ’darshan’. You shouldn’t be inviting the wrath of Lord Siva, lest he could become furious. But he is also a very kind god and a great benefactor. You know, you were relieved of your stomach pain instantly the moment He appeared before you…………………

It also appears to me that you are going to have great hardship going through these places. But, you seem to be destined for something very significant about which I am unable to speak or tell you right now. But you will have Lord Siva’s blessings all along. So, go!”

That was the beginning of my long story. I had no one at home to worry about me. My mother left for heaven when I was just born and my father too joined her a year ago, mourning over the death of his dear wife, all those years. Even when he was alive, it was a moot question whether he supported me or I supported him.

I left home on foot, realizing very little what life experiences were waiting for me. I never knew that my meetings with Lord Siva were going to be so long and arduous. Where did I find my energy during all those years – during those years of encounter with Lord Siva? Only HE knows!

******

Prologue - What, If Our Dreams Come True! An Uncommon Meeting with Lord Siva

Prologue

80 years old Poornachandran - Poornam in short - was very sick, unable to speak and move freely due to a paralytic stroke he had a year ago. His daughter Chandrika, son-in-law Chandrasekar, and the only granddaughter Uma Chandra, ten years old, all adored him so much and took care of him very well with all their love and affection. The only loss he could think of was his wife Ambika, who was a remarkable woman and a popular film playback singer. The sad part was, she died on the day Poornam had his stroke and she wasn’t there to serve him when he probably needed her most, for the first time in his life. Otherwise, he couldn’t complain about anything else in his life. His paralytic stroke and his immobility were, of course, an issue - but they too, stopped bothering him. Every now and then the thought that he shouldn’t burden Chandrika and her family surfaced. He wished to be sent away to Sharan, the old age home at Cheranmahadevi Poornam caused to establish, where any number of volunteers were ready to serve him. Chandrika and Chandrasekar vehemently turned down his request and accepted complete responsibility to take care of him. Strangely, Poornam was not responding to medicines and physiotherapy.

Everything was quiet until one day, an international television crew wanted to meet him for making a film on his life story. They had done some extensive research on his silent accomplishments and were proposing to name him the ‘Best Accomplisher of the Decade’, the conferment included a cash award of quarter million U.S dollars. They wanted to be the first to tell the rest of the world about his unique humanitarian social projects. They wanted him to be available for the ceremony that would be attended by the ‘Who is who!’ of the world’s dignitaries including the President of the United States of America.

Poornam shunned publicity, but this was one time when his non-verbal denial failed to impress Chandrika.

‘Appa, the world needs to know about you. Many more may feel motivated by your life. The Earth needs many more people like you.’

The television team landed at Chandrika’s small house at Cheranmahadevi. Poornam quietly acknowledged Welsch with whom he had worked earlier during his adventures at Brahmadesam. Poornam noticed tears in Welsch’s eyes as he was hugged. Though the TV team was sounded about his bad health, they didn’t expect it to be this bad.

“We need you and your active participation. Your health is very important to us. I can’t bear to see you lying immobilized.” Welsch chocked, as he said this. “I want you to agree to come with us for treatment in America. I want you back in action.”

The TV crew took about a week in travelling to places where Poornam had had his years spent and they were ready to pack off.

The very next week, the whole world knew about Poornachandran who made a silent appearance on the TV screen. Silence spoke more than words. His very appearance on the screen touched many hearts across the globe. His soul departed the very moment he, along with the rest of the world, saw himself on the television screen.

*****

What, If Our Dreams Come True! An Uncommon Meeting with Lord Siva

What If our dreams come true!

First Published: Digital Version through Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing – March, 2014

 

The Author’s earlier works:

Short Stories for Young Readers- Book 1 (2011)

Short Stories for Success for Young Readers: A New Lexicon Unfolded (January, 2014)

 

This book is entirely a work of fiction. All characters and situations are purely imaginary and fictional except a few occasional references to historical names. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or to any situation is coincidental and not intended by the author.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the Author, Publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

BRAVE HEARTS

This is the second story from my book: SHORT STORIES FOR YOUNG READERS - BOOK 1

Brave Hearts

It was getting dark and I was getting worried.

Bhavana, my sister and I studied in the same school and she was in the sixth and I was in the tenth class. Ever since I bought a used bicycle from my senior, for a scrap price, we went to the school together in my cycle. The government buses plied less frequently in our route and we were used to have long waits for a transport. On occasions, they would never turn up and we would have to walk three kilometers each way. So, the arrival of a cycle was a boon to us.

Twice a week, Bhavana went to a teacher who stayed close to our school, for music lessons. Charu teacher who taught music was very dedicated and strict. She took students only selectively. My father, who worked as a fitter in a factory in the nearby town, would pick up Bhavana, while returning home from work. Every alternate Monday, he had to work overtime and bringing Bhavana from her music classes was my responsibility during those days.

That day, Charu teacher was in more than her usual enthusiastic moods and spent more time with Bhavana, who equally matched her teacher’s enthusiasm. The class went on for a long time and I waited for her. When finally the classes got over, both Charu teacher and Bhavana spent some more time appreciating each other and that day’s lesson. It was really late and getting dark.

When she finished, Bhavana got on the carrier of my cycle. I took the small bypass road that connected my village to our school and that reduced our commuting considerably. A cycle ride through this bypass was very exciting and enjoyable. A cool breeze blew over, across a wide ridge between two nearby mountain hills, all through the year.

The bypass was lined with thick banyan trees on both sides.

Mango groves and coconut gardens interspaced between lush green fields added beauty.

A  winding canal  and its cool gurgling water were exquisite sights on the way. One got a panoramic view of the fields, with the hills in the background and the picturesque view thrilled Bhavna. She, as a nature lover in our house, enjoyed the bike ride every time.

As I pedaled back home, I cautioned Bhavana that we must rush, as the lighting was poor and it was becoming dark. Besides, that day was a New Moon day. She said, ‘So what! Even better…. I could watch birds and bats returning back home.” She was the fearless one and I was her opposite. I feared the darkness. A host of other things too, scared me.

Midway, it became pitch dark and my stomach churned. Only some street lights were shimmering here and there and I pedaled faster. Lots of fireflies were illuminating the dark sky.

“Arun, stop for a minute,” Bhavna shouted from behind, suddenly. I hesitated, but she had already jumped down.

“I hear a child crying,” said she.

“What? A child crying in this wilderness! Why do you worry? Some villager should be taking care of it. Let us not waste any more time. Come on.”

“No……… I know for sure, the child is crying. Let us find out whether there is any problem,” insisted Bhavana. She had already started running in the direction from where I too heard the cry of a child. I ran behind her.

Behold! There under a tree, in a cloth cradle, from where the cry came, was a small child, hardly a year old. Bhavana looked around to find out whether there was anyone, but there were none. She rushed back to the cradle and lifted the screaming child. My attempts to stop her were in vain. The baby was already in her arm and she was cuddling the child. The girl baby had nothing on her as cover and she was completely wet. She had a running nose and her hair was sticky. Her body was painted with black dirty mud and she appeared ugly to me, but nothing bothered Bhavana. I detested the very sight.

“Bhavana, this is too much. We have to go back home. Our mother will be anxious and worrying about us. We are very late. Leave the child where she was. I am sure her mother or father will come back soon and take her away. Be assured.” I told her.

“What Arun? Leave this hapless child here? How can you be so cruel and inhuman?”

I was becoming restless and angry with Bhavana. But I could also understand her compassion and felt she had a point. The place was dark and scary and I was afraid. Poor Baby! I was ambivalent. More time passed. Still, no one was in sight.

“Let us take her home. Our mother will advise us on what we can do with her.”

Bhavna already started walking back to our cycle, carrying the child on her shoulders. The baby was quiet by now, though still crying on and off, and Bhavana was comforting her.

I pedaled faster and Bhavana held the baby tightly, even as she adeptly tried to balance herself on the cycle. Our mother was anxiously waiting and on seeing us bringing a baby with us, she was shocked and alarmed. Panting heavily, we explained how we found the child.

“We can’t keep the child with us. We need to report to the police. We would run into a problem.” She said, worried. Some neighbors too, had assembled by that time and raised sharp questions. Our father too, reached home.

Sundar uncle in our neighborhood brought his scooter. We all squeezed ourselves in the back seat, our mother holding the baby in her arms. He drove to the nearby police station and our father followed us in his cycle. There, we met with a policeman, who looked bulky and threatening. He questioned us in a menacing tone, but soon became very understanding. Bhavana answered most of the questions boldly and I was half hiding behind her. The Sub-inspector of Police (SIP) too arrived soon. We tried to explain once again as best as we could, how and where we found the child. He was very appreciative of our gesture, even while he expressed concern that being a rural place, it was possible that the baby’s mother or father must have been working in the nearby field and possibly, would now be searching for the baby. Realizing that he could not keep the baby in the police station, he was in a fix. Sundar uncle came to his rescue and saved him from the embarrassment, by suggesting that the baby could be left with our parents overnight, if that was okay with the SIP. He also suggested that the SIP could identify some suitable place for the care of the baby, later during the next day. Bhavana was quite happy about the turn of the events.

Not immediately finding any other solution, SIP agreed and ordered another policeman to keep a watch over our house, for our safety. However, he also wanted to visit the spot and make sure that the baby’s parents were not looking for the child. So, he took me with him on his motorbike, while others returned back home. However, the place where we found the baby, looked dark and deserted and no one was sighted there. I didn’t seem to fear the policemen now, as much as I used to be.

Our parents were very appreciative of our compassion for the child. It was almost midnight by the time the baby was given a bath, wrapped up in a towel, fed with milk and put to sleep. Bhavana was taking keen interest in everything about the baby. I slept away. I heard the baby crying from time to time during the night. Bhavana tried to be awake, but she was also overtaken by sleep. Our mother had been awake for the whole night. The policeman sent by SIP was with us for sometime in the night and he too retired back to his house, with a promise to come back in the early morning.

*****

Next morning, the SIP arrived in a jeep borrowed from a nearby police station and arranged for sending the child to a Children Home run by a Sai devotee we have heard of, not very far from our place. Overnight, he had also arranged for publishing the news in the local newspapers. He also took Bhavana and me to the spot, where we found the empty cloth cradle still hanging loosely from the branch of the tree. He made inquiries in the nearby localities and there was no clue.

The news spread quickly and it reached our school headmaster too. He, too, arrived at the spot. We became instant heroes in our school.

Bhavana was not to allow the matter to rest. She suggested that we go back to the place again that evening and make more inquiries. I was apprehensive, but conceded. Her enthusiasm was contagious and spreading to me too. We met a number of local villagers. We also went back to the children home to inquire about the baby. Bhavana had already christened the baby as ‘Muthu’ and she was very happy in the company of Muthu, who was all smiles now, not even knowing that her mother was not there to look after her.

*****

The routine continued for a week. In between, we also visited the police station and couldn’t get any further information about the baby’s parents.

One day, Bhavana looked so sad and miserable. Someone in the class had told her that probably, the baby’s parents could have deserted the child and ran away, like they had seen in some movies.

“How can a mother do it?” Bhavana questioned me angrily. I had no answer.

*****

Thanks to Bhavana’s inquisitiveness, on the eighth day, there was some break. One of the villagers reported having seen a nomadic gypsy group roaming and camping near the area where we had found the child and that there were a few babies too, in that group, though he could not be sure how many. We dashed to the police station and luckily, the SIP was available that time. We reported what we learnt. He lauded our efforts and enthusiasm and promised to look around all the gypsy camps nearby.

The very next day, there was some unconnected news. A woman’s dead body was found floating in the nearby pond. However, no connection could be made with the child. The body was sent to the mortuary in the government hospital in the nearby town.

In another town, the police arrested someone on suspicion and during his detention, he had blurted the truth. Two gypsy groups had had a quarrel about money while camping. He was part of one of the groups. When the group parted ways after a bitter quarrel, he picked up another private, nasty duel with one of the women in the group, while she was putting her baby to sleep in a cloth cradle. In a fit of fury, he had severely beaten that woman who swooned and fell to the ground and he left the scene to join other people in the group. She must have regained consciousness and managed to reach the pond, looking out for some water. She, probably, lost her balance and consciousness while she reached the pond and that answered for her body found floating in the nearby pond.

Alas! The poor baby lost her mother, but gained a place where she would grow securely and would have some education, decent food, clothes and lots of love. Bhavana and I visited the children home once in a week to meet “Muthu”. Even our parents visited the child. Gradually they took more interest in the homeless children and decided to spend the weekends in their company. It was a nice feeling we all had.

*****

Should you like the story, you may read the entire book: SHORT STORIES FOR YOUNG READERS - BOOK 1 by downloading the book from www.amazon.com

OR

You may order for the print copy of the same from me, by e-mail to: neelkant16@yahoo.com

Price for Print copy: Rs.100 plus postages (by V.P.P)

Discounts will be available for bulk orders.

Stories from my book: Short Stories for Young Readers - Book 1

CONTENTS

1.      Every Life has a great meaning

2.      Brave Hearts

3.      It is all a matter of one’s attitude and perception

4.      Journey to a Vortex

5.      KPL 20/20: Killiyoor Premier League: A Cricket Match

6.      Rajashekar and Rajapandian

7.      Shankar: The Young Detective

8.      Super Nova

9.      The Opposites

Every Life has a great meaning!

A new day of Packirisami and Santosh

Packirisami had no clairvoyant powers and he didn’t anticipate that today was going to be another new leaf in his life. The day hadn’t started well for him, not that any other day was novel and different. He had a quarrel with Velamma, his ever-complaining wife.

‘You incessant pest!’ shouted Packirisami and impulsively, slapped her. He was stout and bulky and his blow fell mightily. Velamma was hysterical and she screamed. She followed it by heaping her customary curses on him. He regretted immediately, but could never control his conditioned behavior. He felt sorry and turned to apologize to her, but she had already run out of the house.

The peepal tree around the corner of their street was her usual refuge, and her Bodhi Tree. The little Ganesha sitting over there, was her personal Guardian Angel. There, she would receive her enlightenment, after a few minutes of lamenting. She would blow her watery nose onto the palloo of her saree; she would call forth all divine forces to end her life that very moment; she would make a final appeal to the ever-unmoving Lord Ganesha to protect her; and she would meet with a sudden realization that after all, she was at fault, to have begun the quarrel, for nothing. Then resentment would set in, and she would enter her world of self-pity. After some moments of contemplation, she would receive her enlightenment that it was how life was, how it would be for her and how there was no point in complaining about it. She would remember her only daughter, who died three years ago when she was only two. She would then begin her prayers: “Oh, Ganesha! Help me with another child! That would solve all my problems with my husband.” With that prayer, she would return to normalcy; she would then wipe her nose and tears, step down from the elevated, dilapidated structure around the peepal tree and walk back home, taking quick strides, as though nothing ever had happened. She would quietly enter the kitchen and shout, “I am going to make tamarind rice and fish fry for the day. Would you like it?”

This used to be the pattern and it wasn’t different today too.

Packirisamy smiled wryly. He silently ate his usual breakfast of five idlis with plenty of milagai chutney, put on his khaki uniform, and got into the vintage mini-truck, that was parked outside his house, on the roadside. He had christened the truck Mayilu and he believed, it could fly once it started. He worked as a driver and a delivery man for a beedi manufacturer. As he slammed his front side-door closed, he tried to ignite the engine and it gave a cold response. ‘Ah, today I must give my final warning to my Sait: ‘either you change the vehicle or I quit.’ He reminded himself, for the nth time, of the dialogue he intended to deliver to the owner Sait, but never delivered. He had no other extraordinary skills; jobs were difficult to come, he earned modestly from driving for the Sait, and that kept his family running without starving.

Only, his health was a matter of concern. Ever since he lost his daughter, he started getting seizures, for no apparent cause. Initially, he concealed his problem for fear of losing his job, but soon he got exposed when, one day, he was gripped by seizure just in front of the Sait, while unloading some material in the warehouse. When he regained his consciousness, the first thing he did was to ask his Sait, “Are you going to dispense with me?”

Packirisami was a loyal, obedient and trustworthy driver for the Sait, working for him for almost a decade now. The Sait was more than accommodating; he sent him to a hospital run by a charitable trust and using his influence, got Packirisami a first class medical treatment. There was a marked improvement in his health and during the next six months, seizures never returned. He was advised to continue his medication without any break and not to work during the night. Every now and then, Packirisami was haunted by his fear, ‘What if I get my seizure while I drive?’ and his fear was compounded by his awareness that the Sait had no comprehensive insurance for the truck. Velamma had been pressurizing him to set up a small provision store with the financial help from some Self Help Group, but he continued to vacillate about a decision.

The truck engine coughed several times before it finally gave in, after his trials and prayers and it kicked off. Velamma waved her hands, from the entrance. The vehicle picked up speed and disappeared around the corner.

Today, he had to pick up, rolled beedies from a number of households from a far off village. A number of household ladies in that village took up the job of rolling beedies, to provide additional income for their families and once in a week, they were paid for their labor. He had to drive for a while on the main road, then enter a smaller village road, drive past a railroad crossing and keep going for about half an hour, before he could reach that particular village. As he entered the village road, the engine choked again and the vehicle jerked violently several times, before it came to a stop.

Packirisami had spent almost seven years with Mayilu and during those years, he had become quite friendly with it. The thought that Mayilu would be condemned sooner or later distressed him. Mayilu was his lonely companion and he shared his moments of joy and sorrow, and his excitement and depression, with it. Mayilu too, reciprocated, by never letting him down.

He got down from the truck, walked to its front, and started his dialogue with Mayilu, as if he was talking to his lover. Waving his hands and gesticulating, he showed off his exasperation. As a final act of friendliness, he put his hands on her bonnet and beseeched, ‘O, please come on, come alive, today only! I will see to it that you are rested from tomorrow onwards.’ With that, he got back into the truck, hit the engine and accelerator and it suddenly roared into motion. He thanked Mayilu, by gently patting the dashboard and drove ahead.

Packirisami was, in fact, actually very tired today; he had to work late during the previous night and he had to lose some sleep. He also didn’t remember to take his pills last night. Though occasionally it didn’t matter, the doctor had warned him strictly, not to skip his medicines. And, this morning the fight with his wife dampened his spirits and he felt sucked off energy. He was trying to remember why they fought that morning. It was nothing serious, as far as he was concerned. Velamma wanted to consult a specialist gynaecologist and he was procrastinating. Of course, today was not the first day she had reminded him; on occasions, she would flare up and become hysterical. Packirisami, low on niceties, was tactless many times. He feared that their child might inherit his nervous debility and he failed to explain this to Velamma properly. He didn’t mind adopting a child, but Velamma was opposed to such an idea.

He was approaching the railroad crossing and as he just entered, the engine gave another big jerk and stopped. It was an unmanned rural railroad crossing and there was no one around. He tried to start the engine several times, but Mayilu was unrelenting this time. He knew, it was not the time for any train to pass-by at this hour. So he remained cool and kept trying to ignite the engine. But, no way! Mayilu stood like a rock, across the railway line and wouldn’t move.

Packirisami got down, was angry with Mayilu, and kicked her tyres; and his pressure mounted when he could spot no one to help him. It was the end of summer, but the heat hadn’t receded. Humidity in the air worsened the situation. He was sweating profusely. He got into his seat again, prayed and pleaded with Mayilu, but she was very stubborn.

When he was almost exhausted, he saw at the far end, the silhouette of a figure slowly walking up on the rail track. Some hope returned to him, he got down, removed his shirt and waved. He couldn’t guess whether the figure really took notice or not, but he continued to wave even more vigorously.

*****

For Santosh, his life was anything other than what his name signified. He was Mr.Hopeless and Mr.Good-for-Nothing, in his year in the college. Every day, they pinned him with something or other and completely ran him down. This, even when he did all the errands and chores for everyone - but in the end, all that he got was volumes of abuse, criticism, chiding, ridicule and ragging. He didn’t know why they behaved the way they did.

He blamed his father, for leaving him an orphan at the mercy of his uncle. His mother was innocent and she had died when he was much younger. His father was in his robust adulthood, until he took to drinking liquor. He became an addict and his liver tore apart one day. He was hospitalized and didn’t return from there. His uncle took over as his guardian, keeping an eye on the properties that his father left behind. Santosh was fed like an animal and treated like a despicable creature in his uncle’s place. He was very timid and docile and never rebelled. What was his fault, he wondered!

Today, he was thoroughly disgusted and dejected. He was expelled from his classes for the rest of the day, for none of his fault. Someone else did some prank in the lab with a very costly apparatus, but the blame landed on him. He was hauled by his HOD and sent out. In utter frustration, he started walking the long distance back home, along the railway track. He didn’t care, even if a speeding train was to run over on the track, for, that would end his pain. Life didn’t matter to him anymore. He walked slowly and deliberately.

With the hot air rising, as he walked, all he could see was only some mirage along his path. But he knew, if he walked ahead for some time, he would meet a railroad crossing from where he could catch the main road, by a short walk. As he walked further, he saw a silhouette of a vehicle trying to cross the railway track. Walking still further up, he saw another hazy image of someone, standing over the track, waving some white cloth, high up in the air. The vehicle that he saw earlier had stopped across the railway track. Suddenly energy returned to him. He felt something was wrong. He started taking quick steps, but his crippled legs affected by polio, didn’t offer much speed.

Before long, he reached the crossing and quickly understood the gravity of the situation. The vehicle got stuck on the track and the driver was alone. Looking at him and his crippled legs, Packirisami’s spirits died. Santosh looked around and there was no one in sight. He offered to push the vehicle as much as he could. They both tried from behind the truck. The vehicle rumbled, but didn’t move much. They pushed harder and the truck edged slowly. They tried repeatedly and finally the truck moved further, but not completely off the track. The other side was sloping down. Santosh suggested that if Packirisami could get into his seat and try to jump-start the vehicle while Santosh pushed it from behind, they might probably succeed in moving the vehicle out of the track.

Santosh used all his might - his legs slipped repeatedly - but he didn’t give up. He groaned. With his foot firmly on the ground and his shoulders rubbing with the body of the truck, he pushed the truck with all his power, while Packirisami tried to bring life to the engine, by maneuvering with the clutch and the accelerator.

Oh, my God! Santosh heard the distinct whistle from a distance. A train ought to be approaching. But it couldn’t be at this hour. No train was due to be passing by at this time, not even one carrying goods. He was alarmed. He stopped pushing and went near the driver’s window. Packirisami turned around towards Santosh, but then it struck him. Packirisami’s face convoluted, his jaw hardened, eyes pointlessly stared, his whole body went rigid and then suddenly, he shook violently all over. Santosh looked panic stricken. In the next few moments, he understood that Packirisami was having his seizures. He looked for something, some metallic pieces to prevent his mouth from teetering and his teeth from cutting away his tongue. He found nothing that he could lay his hand quickly. He tried to push open the door by the side of the driver seat, but it appeared to be jammed.

Santosh was thoroughly paralyzed and confused. He ran back behind the vehicle and gave it a push, hoping the vehicle would give in miraculously. There was no use. He ran back to Packirisami and again, tried to open the door. But, now he heard it clearly. A train was definitely fast approaching. He could hear the whistle, blowing loudly from the engine.

He ran back to the track, tore off his shirts quickly, shouted and waved it around in the air desperately, to signal to the train to stop. But the train continued to approach him, unabated.

He rushed back to Packirisami. Keeping his one foot on the tyres, he used both his hands and pulled the side door with all the power he could muster. This time, the side door came off its hinges, throwing him back on the ground. The body of Packirisami slumped, his seizures had stopped and he was unconscious. Santosh got up, hurried to Packirisami, slapped his face mildly, in an attempt to bring him to consciousness, but in vain. He looked for some water, but it wasn’t available. He tried to pull him out, but Santosh was no match for Packirisami’s stout figure.

The engine was nearer now, Santosh was sure.

‘But why has it not stopped now? The engine driver must have surely noticed the truck, in the middle of the railway track.’ He cursed the engine driver.

‘Should I go back to the track and try to stop the train?’ he was confused. He started crying loudly. His whole body seemed to be edging toward numbness.

‘O God! Give me strength this time at least!’ he cried aloud again. He slid his two arms under the heavy weight of Packirisami and tried to pull him out of the vehicle once again. His body slightly moved. Santosh tried still harder, even while he felt a sudden weakness in his crippled leg.

‘Either now or never,’ he concluded.

He never knew where from he got that strength, but he managed to pull Packirisami out, who fell heavily on him. Santosh fell to the ground and Packirisami crashed on him.

As they fell, Santosh heard the heavy sound of the truck twirling around, splintering into several pieces and thrown all over. Santosh knew nothing thereafter, he lost his consciousness completely.

*****

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a hospital, completely wrapped around in plasters. His professor and a couple of other students were anxiously waiting for him to open his eyes. He was in critical care and the doctors thought he had almost gone. His body was crushed all over and several bones had broken apart requiring multiple surgeries. His jaw got twisted, his lips split, nasal bones powdered, at least three or four teeth smashed deep into mouth cavity and his body damaged in endless other places. What hit the truck was not any full train, but only an engine passing by and he survived. The engine driver, who was taking it to the nearby station for an emergency, was a bit careless. Though he applied the brakes to the engine, but alas, the engine came to a halt only after hitting the truck, whose rear side was still projecting across the railway track. The truck whirled around its axis several times before it was torn apart. It was a miracle that Santosh and Packirisami, who were lying just a few inches away from the truck tyres, escaped alive. They were thrown over a few feet, by the force of the collision. Packirisami got severe head injuries requiring multiple sutures, otherwise, he was safe.

“You proved that your life too, had a great meaning and purpose. We are extremely sorry for the treatment you got in the college. We learnt what actually happened, from the surgeon who had heard you muttering when you were being operated on. We must be grateful to the engine driver, despite his fault. He had a cell phone and he organized the immediate relief for you both. Velamma is waiting outside, to see you. She already believes you are her Ganesha, who saved her Packirisami.”

Santosh felt proud for the first time in his life. He, too, had an accomplishment to speak about and hopefully, people might look at him differently, at least for now.

Velamma, his newly adopted mother, walked into the room with folded hands, tears rolling down her cheeks heavily.

*****

………………………………………………………….

Saree – a typical Indian dress for ladies

Palloo – the edge portion of a saree

Idlis – a typical South Indian food preparation

Milagai - chilli

Beedi – an Indian equivalent of a cigarette; rolled tobacco leaves

Mayilu – a Tamil language word to denote a peacock bird

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