Vishal Sharma
A purple sun bird came flying though a pall of smoke and perched itself on a drooping branch of a peepal tree that stood in one corner of the cremation ground on a raised, concrete platform; its form every bit as imposing as an ancient castle perched on a flat rocky outcrop. Its many massive branches floated in the air in all directions; and seemed to wilt under their own weight. The bark on its trunk had come off at many places; revealing the grubby interiors. Miles of red thread went around its trunk, colored by the red and yellow of vermillion and turmeric paste at many places. It stood as a consecrated totem, in splendid isolation.
The sun had dropped below; allowing everything to bask in its afterglow. The bird looked around and said to itself. ” What a spectacle ! None bids adieu better than the Sun. How blessed are we with all that nature has given us! Whither will we be without the Mother Nature? ”
The haze of black smoke behind it became dense as the flames of fire leapt up to consume the funeral pyre. Two other pyres, not far from it, no longer burnt as intensely; but a few embers smouldered and paper- thin curls of smoke rose from them. The bird turned around to see the black clouds of smoke. It became pensive. ” God has bereaved someone of their closest, the dearest. His ways; only he knows. Those who are left behind will have to find their own ways of coping with it. Life will continue as it has through ages.”
Then he hailed the tree. ” How do you do my friend?.”
” Good. It’s been weeks since I saw you. Where have you been?”
” My friend, it’s in our destiny to fly. And fly to the newer and outlying places. We are not so lucky as to remain rooted to a spot like you and watch the people come and go without so as much even lifting a little finger.”
” This is a curse, my friend. What you see as luck or bliss is in fact a curse. You can’t imagine how I wish I could also get wings and fly high in the sky and then turn my sights downward to see the humanity on the earth. How I wish I was liberated from the never ending captivity that has slayed my spirit and smothered my ambition.”
” Why do you feel so low, my friend? Have I not been your eyes and ears all these years? Have I not made you soar with me in spirits and see the colours of life?”
” Yes, you have. But doing so only in spirits is not the same as actually taking flight.”
” Oh, do not lament, my friend. As long as your friend lives, you will continue to see the world beyond the four walls of this cremation ground. Now tell me how many people came to this place today for their last journey? ”
” Three,” said the tree, pointing to the one burning funeral pyre. The fire in other two pyres had died down. ” Go and see the plight of the bereaved families and tell me all about it.”
Off went the bird. It flew for a mile to the north before it came to perch itself on a window sill. A white tent had been erected under which were spread a few old carpets of all colours and sizes. A few people sat on the chairs that lay in one corner. Some mourners sat on the carpet and spoke to one another in undertones.
The Womenfolk occupied the verandah, which led to a room that filled with more women. It was from here the wailings and loud cries could be heard. The bird descended from the sill onto a more comfortable perch from where it could peep into the room. It saw that a young woman was crying inconsolably. She looked no more than twenty five. The bird quickly figured out that it was the wife of the departed soul. In another corner, an older woman was beside herself with grief over the bereavement. She must be her mother in law, the bird thought to itself. It was then someone’s counsel caught the bird’s attention. “Have a heart, young girl. He is gone and won’t ever return. You now have an entire life- a mountain of life- before you. Get hold of yourself and think about your future,” an old women counseled the young widow.
” More and more young people are dying these days. In our times, it was a rarity. What has become of this world? God, please have pity on this young thing,” said another woman, who held the young widow’s head in her hand. A few moments later, the young widow gathered herself up and got up to go to the washroom. The bird darted out of the verandah and went round the house and came to sit on the window of the washroom. Inside the washroom, the widow lamented at her fate.” Where will I carry this thing that painfully grows in my womb? Its four months old while we had been married for only a few days. What will I say if this damn thing leaps out- which it will- before ninth months into our marriage? Who will believe me if I tell them that we made love months before we tied the nuptial knot. Oh God, spare me this misery, this tribulation or take my life too as you have taken his.”
The bird flew back to be with the tree.
” My friend, what did you see?”
” A lot. I saw a mother, who has lost her son and a young girl, her husband. And something even more horrible !”
” Horrible ?”
” I saw that the girl had a child in her womb.”
“What’s horrible about it?”
“Her pregnancy is in second trimester even though her marriage lasted only a few days.”
The bird then flew to see the plight of another grieving family. In the cobbled courtyard under the canopy sat a large gathering of the mourners. In a small room, four men were poring over a few old frayed or ragged pages. The bird positioned itself on the top of the opened window in the verandah.
” I can’t read as this damn thing has not only faded at a few places, but is also torn at others,” said the youngest of them as he looked closely at the sheaf of papers in his hand. The bird quickly discerned that the deceased was an old man and the four men were his sons.
” The old man did not bother to have the will prepared afresh. This will was prepared a quarter of century ago.”
They tried to align the frayed edges in many different ways possible especially where the words had begun to efface or had been torn away to read the contents of the will. But despite their strenuous efforts, they could not read the will. It’s then the eldest son commanded the others. ” No point wasting time on this. Send for that bugger- the lawyer- who drafted it. He may have another copy.”
Another son, who sat silent all this while, intervened. ” Should we not wait until at least the fourth day? People are visiting us to condole his death and we are busy looking at his will. After all, this thing is not going to go anywhere.”
” One or two of us can attend to the visitors. All of us are not required. We can very well do things in rotation,” said the eldest son. It was then their cousin announced the arrival of the lawyer.
“Please accept my condolences on your father’s death. He was a genuinely good man,” said the lawyer, as he took off his shoes and sat on the carpeted floor. The eldest son acknowledged his tribute.
” We were also thinking of seeing you. But you know we are busy. There is so much to do in funerals.”
The youngest son could not resist the temptation of talking about his father’s bequeathal.
” Our father was indeed a kind soul. Of course he was a big business tycoon- ambitious, ruthless and thoroughly professional. But he was a family man too; unflinchingly wedded to the family values. He was sensible enough to divide his assets and property by way of a will when he was alive. We even have the copy of the will.”
” Really ?”
” Yes. But as it is decades old, it is old and worn in many places. There are some clauses that we can’t read.”
” Oh, that old will ! But that will is no longer valid. Your father prepared another one in the interim.”
” Did he?”
” Yes. Here it is.”
The sons looked at the envelope and then returned it to the lawyer.
” Why don’t you read it to us?”
” Sure.” The lawyer then went on to read the will.
” I, Devi Das s/o Manohar Das, r/o 82- Durga Nagar, being of sound mind and body, declare this to be my last and only will and testament. I bequeath all my property to the orphanage run by M/s Boparais at 75-Hari Singh Road, Amritsar, only to be used by M/s Boparais for running the orphanage.” The sons could not believe what they had heard and started shouting at the lawyer. The lawyer handed them the will and walked off.
The bird flew back to be with the tree.
” How did it go?”
” The rich old man died, leaving nothing to his four sons.”
” He must have been disappointed with them or else which father would do that.”
The bird flew yet again, this time to the west and saw a canopy and an opened gate and found a vantage point on the branch of a small tree in the corner of the front yard. A middle aged woman sat muffling her sobs with her duppatta in the corner of the verandah surrounded by a group of women. A mustachioed, dry eyed man sat on a charpoy with a few mourners. He seemed unaffected and untroubled by the death. In contrast, the women, who sobbed unremittingly, looked to have wept herself sick.
” Where have you gone at the tender age of sixteen, my girl? Was I so cruel that you did not think even for a second before leaving me to grieve forever?” A young boy went around serving water to the mourners. Then came a girl bringing tea to the mourners. As she went from one mourner to another, some picked up the cups of tea from the tray while others waved her off. The darkness of the night had thickened; enveloping everything outside. The chatter of the birds had also receded even as the shrill bark of the dogs resonated in remote stillness.
The mustachioed man rose and walked to the sobbing woman and helped her to get up. Then they walked into a room. The bird flew to land on the thin edge of the iron grill of the window and fixed its gaze on them.
” Stop this hysteria. Good that she has gone. She was a blemish on me. She was a stain on my manhood that I won’t ever be able to live down.”
” Why do you say this? She was so tender. So pretty. So harmless. What did she do to you to deserve this hatred?”
” She was not mine. You carried someone else’s seed and then had the audacity to give birth to her despite my protestations. Hellfire awaits not only her but you too.”
” At least be kind on the day when she has left us.”
” I hated her every waking moment of my life. Her smile derided me. I always felt smaller in her presence.”
The bird flew back to be with the tree.
” My friend, what tidings you bring to me?”
” The young girl, who died today, was not fathered by the person, who is legally wedded to her mother.”
” Oh really?”
” The non biological father feels liberated today. Her presence was a curse on him.”
” I will now leave you, my friend, for I have kept you company long enough.”
” How about spending some more time with me? When you are not with me I am absolutely alone with no one to talk to. Can’t you see my predicament?”
” Worry not, my friend, I will come back as I have every time I have left you in the past. But I can’t stay now for I have to fly back to my brood.”
” Go well, my friend. May the wind be at your back.”
Follow our WhatsApp channel
