ONGOING OBLIGATIONS

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