ONGOING OBLIGATIONS. SHORT STORY (ENGLISH).
I could not have a wink of sleep. A chain of bizarre dreams came in quick
succession and disturbed me. At last when I managed to doze off in the early
hours, it was spoilt by the rasping noise of the buzzer. I got up cursing and
stumbled on a nearby chair before opening the front door.
Raja was standing there, looking pale and exhausted “…..our Kannan …..
our Kannan”, his voice choked with emotion,”… has left us….”
What do you mean?..... I almost shouted
“Yes. He’s no more”.
“But, how …. How could this happen,” I asked with disbelief.
“Last night he had a splitting headache,,,,, took a pill before going to bed.
And he never woke up in the morning….”, Raja was almost in tears.
Kannan was a prominent member of our friends’ circle. We had played
badminton and were chatting till seven, the previous evening. The news of his
demise was so sudden and untimely that it seemed unbelievable. I sent away
Raja asking him to inform others and said that I would straight away go to
Kannan’s house.
I was filled with nostalgic memories of the days when all of us had a jolly
good time. Whenever a new movie was screened in the local theatre, we were
to be found in the first show’s queue. At Nayar’s tea shop, sitting on the
improvised wooden bench, we idled away our time, gossiping about all and
sundry.
Lord Ganesa, sitting wistfully under the pipal tree near the tank was a silent
witness to our youthful pranks. Many a time I have wondered whether under
the guise of pensiveness, he was enjoying them stealthily.All through the
year he sat there stoicaly, unattended and uncared for. But he had his day
on Ganesh chaturthi. We used to bring out hand bills, collect donations and
celebrate it grandly. Display of fireworks in the evening was the highlight of
the events. After the light music performance by some amateurs the
function will come to close.
My thoughts raced through these events of the past as I kept on walking.
Most of our friends were already there when I reached Kannan’s house. The
grief of his family knew no bounds. We were unable to console them as we
ourselves were upset and shaken. After the arrival of the relatives from their
native place the funeral procession started.It wended its way through the
narrow lanes and bylanes and finally reached the main road.
A dusty mudpath branching off the main road led to the cemetery. It had a
rugged compound wall built around it. I was reminded of a saying which
decried it as a foolish act to construct a fence around a cemetery because those
inside it could never possibly come out and those outside would never wish
to enter in.
The burial place of the Hindus was near the entrance. It abounded with wild
cactus and small thorny plants. Dry faded garlands and broken pots were
strewn everywhere. Under the shade of a huge tree in the corner, a dog was
playing with small puppies. Tombs of various shapes were found scattered
here and there. The epitaphs gave out details like the names, the birth and
death dates of the people who were lying there in their eternal sleep. Some of
them proudly displayed even their scholarship, status in society and
distinguished achievements. We trudged amidst them on a beaten path,
Atlast, when we reached the crematorium, Kannan’s body was laid on the
platform and the last rites began.
The burial ground of the Christians was adjacent to this crematorium. It was
easy to identify it by the hundreds of crosses over that place. Beyond it was
the muslim cemetery. Small thorny shrubs separated these areas. It looked
odd and strange that people were made to retain their differences even after
they were reduced to dust or ashes by death, the great leveller
My thoughts were interrupted by a hoarse voice which announced that the
last rites were being completed. After that the body was consumed to flames.
We doddered along as our hearts were heavy with grief. On our way back all
the friends kept on talking about Kannan.
“Hmm, He was hale and healthy yesterday and to-day he is no more.
This life is only an empty dream’ said kumar.
“ A similar fate awaits everyone. It is a pity that we run about here and there
to amass wealth. We should be satisfied with whatever we have”, observed
Sekhar. The talk revolved round this theme. I walked silently as I did not
know what to say.
When we reached the main road we were tired and thirsty.
“Come on , we will have some cool drinks over there”-Kumar pointed to a
small roadside shop. All of us thronged the shop,
Raja asked the shopkeeper to add plenty of ice to the drinks.
As we left the shop we felt refreshed and recharged.
“ Kumar, do you remember? I told you about my idea of constructing the
first floor. I have already submitted the necessary plan for sanction. Use your
good offices to get it sanctioned at an early date” said Sekhar. Kumar
promised to look into the matter and asked him to make arrangements for
starting the work.
I was astounded to hear this conversation. ‘How strange! Just now Sekhar
sermonized that we should be satisfied with our lot and should not crave for
more. Now within a few minutes he talks about the construction of his first
floor. Is this mere fickle-mindedness or sheer hypocracy?- I reflected to
myself. At the very same moment the struggling voice of my conscience
censured me for enjoying a cool drink even before the mortal remains of my
bosom pal were fully consumed by the funeral fire.
With my mind perplexed and perturbed, I joined Raja who was now walking
along in front while others were coming behind at a slower pace. I poured
out my thoughts to him.
He answered me in a gentle tone, ‘Our life is a mixture of joys and sorrows.
At times of happiness we gloat over our successes and are crestfallen and
dejected at our losses. But whatever may be the fluctuations of our fortunes
we have to carry on with our unfinished duties and unfulfilled obligations.
The feeling of remorse over a loss is only transitory which should not affect
our normal routines or hamper our future plans and actions."
The revelation was made in simple and casual words. It made me understand
the existence of an altogether different dimension which was hitherto
unknown to me. Is not time a great healer? A seemingly unbearable sorrow
will slowly but surely fade away with the passage of time. That is a boon
given to the human race to enable it to carry on with its ceaseless aspiration
towards perfection. It is only these ongoing obligations that make life
purposeful and worth living.
When this new sense of understanding dawned upon me, I felt light at heart. I
began to walk homewards swiftly unmindful of the scorching heat.
Submitted by,
R.NATARAJAN ‘Anugraha’
Plot No. 38 First Main Road,
Nagappa Nagar, Chromepet,
Chennai-600044
Tamil Nadu (INDIA)
e-mail- natrajan.ramaseshan@gmail.com
