Meagre needs but boundless desires

Raghavan was jumping from one online portal to other in order to arrange groceries and vegetables. Meanwhile, his wife Meenakshi was putting their daughter Srinika to bed. Soon after the little one was fast asleep her mother tip toed out of the room. While closing the door her eyes fell on two pairs of snowshoes and bags that were packed with winter essentials like jackets, woollen gloves, caps.

“These are of no use now.” Meenakshi thought to herself taking a deep breath.
“Any luck?” Meenakshi asked her husband and headed straight to the kitchen.
“No, not yet.” Out of frustration he flunked his hand in the air and replied.

She walked silently into the kitchen and combed through the pantry cabinets in order to take a stock of groceries.

“Half a container of rice, around three kilograms of pulses, wheat flour seems okay, but oil won’t last more than five days… ”, promptly she got into an assessment mode.
“None of them are accepting orders. Don’t know what to do.” Raghavan came in to inform.
“Leave it for now. You could try again tomorrow morning.” Meenakshi suggested.
“What’s the situation here?” Raghavan inquired looking at one of the empty pantry cabinets.
“Well, I think this stock would last for five to six days at the most.” She replied pensively.

Stocking up items that are essential for basic survival did not occupy their mental space till this moment as they were preparing for a trip to Europe that would have commenced shortly. However, life is known for throwing surprises. As a pre-emptive measure to check the spread of covid-19 virus the Government of India had imposed lockdown in the country. Hence, being trapped in an unexpected turn of events compelled them to put the trip on hold for now. Interestingly, in no time they adapted to the changing scenario. So instead of crying over spilt milk or getting in touch with the travel agency for postponing the date of travel or refund of their booked tickets, they got down just to the basics… survival. After all, challenging situations makes one realize what constitutes the core and what was the peripheral crust in life.

“Don’t worry, there will be a way out. There are so many shops nearby. Once the mad rush to hoard things settles down, we can go and buy things. We have some staple to last us a few days.” Meenakshi reassured. Although she had provided solace to her husband, but deep inside she had apprehensions regarding the hidden facets of the coming days that would unfurl eventually.

“And what if we face grimmer situation like food scarcity during this period, what are we going to do? All these years we have toiled hard accumulating wealth for our future needs but when the need came knocking at the door, no amount of bank balance came to our rescue. Even after having buying power in good proportion, the currency notes look mere paper and bank cards are useless pieces of plastic.” Raghavan asked helplessly.

That day their efforts went in vain but three days later Raghavan ventured out to buy essential goods. He felt no less than a soldier donned with a mask shielding his face, clutching a hand sanitizer as his only weapon and with fear in his heart cautiously avoiding as much touch points as possible, thus taking baby steps forward. With humanity waging a war against this dreaded pathogen, the dynamics of warfare has changed in a blink of an eye. Now, it is widely understood that a war is no longer fought at frontiers alone and an enemy could be a microscopic organism too. Though Raghavan came back home with groceries and other essentials successfully, yet he was far from feeling victorious or claim the mission as accomplished.

“Keep everything in the balcony, discard your mask and take bath. I have kept everything ready in the bathroom.” Meenakshi announced as she proceeded to toil with fruits and vegetables, cleaning and sanitizing them for an hour. After they were done with their newfound rituals, they sat relived for a few minutes before dispersing to their respective make-shift workspace. As their trip got cancelled, they thought it was sensible to resume their work straight away. Luckily, their nature of work supported work from anywhere concept.

“How was everything outside?” Meenakshi enquired.
“Okay… it looked okay as most of the people were trying to maintain a safe distance from each other. Of course some of them acted callously too. But there is a lot of confusion outside.” Raghavan replied.
“Yeah, it is better to stay at home.” Meenakshi added.
“Hmmm, indeed. Just thinking of it for some time… our home has become Noah’s ark of present times. Isn’t it?” Raghavan sighed and continued, “As if we are all floating in a deep, dark ocean of uncertainties but once inside our tiny abode, we are still safe from this torrential virus. In the same way, every creation of God who had boarded Noah’s Ark were safe despite whatever was going on outside of it.”

While contemplating about God’s design in maintaining an equilibrium in the universe, she looked around the abandoned construction site from her window. The place was hustling and bustling with activities just a few days ago, but it is sparsely populated now due to lockdown.

“Don’t know if this virus has originated naturally or in a lab, but nothing is possible without God’s consent. There must be a bigger picture, a greater purpose than what meets our eyes. If you observe properly you would realize, this incident has made everyone to stand in a single line. Anybody or everybody can get effected by this virus irrespective of their class, status or financial ability… no exemption, no favoritism whatsoever.” Raghavan added.

That afternoon, after slogging for a few hours at work she thought of reheating the food to be consumed for lunch as it was prepared in the morning. While keeping vegetable curry and rasam on gas stove she felt a sense of relief as they were able to arrange enough food for coming days. For a moment, her heart sank as she drifted away to their maiden trip to Europe. To be at the safer side they had postponed it to the third quarter of the year as the situation does not look conducive any time soon.

“We should give a call or send a mail to the travel agency to get a confirmation. They should give a clear picture, but they are just not at all responding. Oh! sometimes I feel life is a series of uncomfortable situations with a bit of relief in between.” she thought.

Strange are the ways of a flickering mind, as after her home got stacked with essentials for basic needs, it wandered to more peripheral needs such as following up the travel agent or the trip. She was brought back by shrill screams of a dog. She quickly rushed to the balcony thinking, “Why is this dog crying?”

To her surprise, a little boy and his sister were giving bath to a stray puppy at the same construction site adjacent to their building. And the puppy is in turn reluctant to get drenched in water thus screaming his lungs out. The innocence and the excitement with which they both were going about their job brought a smile on Meenakshi’s face as she knew the thrill of bringing home a pup from the streets. As kids, many a times she and her brother use to bring stray pups home, bath them or wipe them with antiseptic liquid, give them milk and even name them before getting stern orders from their mother to leave the pup outside.

“Life was so simple yet satisfying back then.” she thought to herself.
“Rasam was boiling so I have switched off the stove. I have filled water bottles and put plates on dining table. Shall we sit for lunch?” Raghavan said from behind.
“Yeah, coming. Could you please call Srinika for lunch?” She replied.

Later that evening, when she got up from work, she checked on Srinika and headed straight to the kitchen to get some milk for the kid and prepared some tea for themselves. She also kept some murukku on a plate to be savoured with hot beverage.

“Raghav, will you have tea with us, or shall I keep the cup at your table?” She asked.
“Yes, I am coming in five minutes.” he replied

All three of them sat with tea, milk and snacks. With great excitement little Srinika was showing drawings and paper crafts which she had made during the day. They were spending good time together… eating, talking and laughing. From this sight who could gauge that they too have their own share of concerns. Lakhs of money stuck with travel agent, uncertainties at work front, mammoth-sized home loan. In the current situation everything seems like an albatross hanging around the neck.

“After ages we got some time together, life has become so hectic.” she said to her husband.
“Yeah, as if we are all running… a never-ending race. We did not even have the luxury to sit peacefully.” he replied.
After some time, turning towards Raghavan, she asked “Let me start preparing dinner now. What shall I prepare for dinner, tomato rice or Idlis?”
“Anything would do.” he replied.

While going back to kitchen she felt like checking on the kids at the construction area. She had developed a soft corner for those children. They appeared excited as they played hopscotch. The little puppy looked amused too as it jumped in synchrony with them. At some point, the three musketeers huddled together, and boy raised his hand up in the air pretending to take a selfie.

“Now, this is pure joy. Oblivious to the situation around they seem to be living and cherishing the moments together. Childhood is so carefree and unadulterated. I have bought a high-end camera for this trip, considering it highly essential. Is it because I wanted to relive those moments years later or is it because I wanted to flaunt our trip on social media? Somehow, in a quest to click that perfect pose in an exotic location we would have missed out on experiencing the moment. And later, we would have become so busy in our lives that looking back at those moments would have been a far cry.” she thought.

Meenakshi looked around the construction site minutely, amidst well-constructed villas their tiny shack stood upright on a framework of bamboo logs where tarpaulin and bamboo sheets were used both as roof and walls. A few cloths neatly hanging on a rope, totally dried up under the sun by now. A net basket full of onions and tomatoes hang from the roof. Aluminium utensils washed and kept in a plastic basket, a simple Kolam (floor drawing) adorned the entrance. Interestingly, a few shrubs were planted in discarded paint tumblers too. A man, supposedly their father, was sitting on a foldable charpoy and eating something. While their mother sat under an open sky near their hut and was occasionally talking with amusement with her husband. At the same time she was preparing dinner on a stove made of mud and bricks.

“There seems to be an order, a rhythm in an otherwise disorganized and temporary arrangement. They seem to be so composed amidst the turmoil all around.” she thought to herself.

Raghav was crossing by and saw Meenakshi standing by the balcony thus he joined her. On seeing him she asked abruptly, “If material opulence alone can give us happiness then why does this family looks happy with meagre resources? And why is it that even after attaining so much, a void still lingers in our heart?”

“By and large we are suffering due to polluted aim in life, namely lording it over material resources. We have become far too mechanical in chasing our dreams…desires. All our lives we stay trapped in an illusion thinking designation, position and material comfort makes us happy or defines our success but ultimately, we become slaves of our own desires. Ironic it may sound, we work hard to accomplish them, which in turn invites stress and then we go around searching for peace.” he lamented.

“True, when lockdown commenced, we were only worried about basic needs for survival. We did not think about superficial desires such as the trip. In a way, this pandemic reminds us that our needs remain limited, but we have made our desires boundless…” Meenakshi said drifting deep into her thoughts.

Humans have increased their needs far too high, but life is never made comfortable by artificial needs but plain living and high thinking. We have become so busy caring for our body and mind that we have forgotten the needs of our soul.

– Aradhana Basu Das

Children born in paradise

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Many years ago while sitting thousands of kilometers away and quite unaware of the ground reality in Jammu and Kashmir, I came across this famous quote by the Mughal Emperor Jahangir “Gar firdaus bar-rue zamin ast, hami asto, hamin asto, hamin ast” (“If there is a heaven on earth, it’s here, it’s here, it’s here”). There is no denying the fact that these words were instrumental in arousing my curiosity for this place. The visuals of Dal lake with floating houseboats, snow clad Himalayas, the breathtaking glaciers, gardens neatly manicured with chinar trees, the mighty Jhelem gushing through the valley and beautiful people showcasing their unique culture, made such an enchanting panorama in my mind that at times I used to feel envious of those blessed people who lived there. But ironically, little did I know that a place as serene as a paradise had long been infected with deadly viruses such as insurgency and terrorism. When, how and why this blessing became a curse is a point to introspect for all of us as humans. Jahangir’s Kashmir resembled a beautiful damsel blushing in hues of red aptly mirroring the chinar leaves of autumn. Whereas the Kashmir that we have seen in recent times is a reflection of a helpless vagrant. Though she is still smitten in crimson, but unfortunately with blood oozing out from her burned and bruised self. As an aftermath of prolonged armed conflict, the place which should have been cheerful and vibrant with constant footfalls of tourists has now become deserted and forlorn. The sad truth about this fiasco is that fear, distrust, uncertainty and gloom has crept in the society… hindering its survival and growth. As a result of growing up in a conflict zone the children are subjected to constant trauma such as anxiety of separation and death. We also get to hear a lot about mental health issues that has cropped up in the region. Unfortunately, the youngsters are the worst affected in the whole process as they are robbed off their innocence far too early in their lives something that no child should be deprived off. As children have a tendency to imitate what they perceive from the world around them it becomes all the more difficult for them to avoid getting influenced by untoward incidents that take place around them. Moreover, the day to day discussions of these impressionable minds are also quite different unlike the children growing up in a more peaceful place. With schools being closed due to curfew every now and then and minimal constructive engagement some of these kids indulge in meaningless discussions and activities.

Interestingly, a place doesn’t determine the talent quotient of its inhabitants instead it decides how equipped it is to nurture their talent and help them evolve. God bestows upon each of his creations the power to excel but how do we utilize that power is up to our free will. However, amidst heart wrenching stories of youth being swayed by radical thinking and thereby engaging in anti-social activities in Jammu and Kashmir, we also hear about individuals who have made their mark in spite of all odds. For instance, the phenomenal story of child prodigy Tajamul Islam winning world kick boxing championship for India or the achievements of television sensations like Shaheer Sheikh and Hina Khan. Or, for that matter the success story of Athar Amir-ul-Shafi Khan, an officer in Indian Administrative Service, acts as a silver lining on an otherwise dark and gloomy cloud. Thinking about  Athar’s journey… from Anantnag to Indian Institute of Technology, Mandi and from there to Lal Bahadur Shastri Academy for Administration, Mussoorie has been exemplary. Similarly, other known and unknown faces from the region have also dared to defy all odds and dream differently. Their success depicts the true nature of the human race, i.e. a strong instinct to survive in the face of elimination. Perhaps, we are designed in such a way that we are in a constant pursuit of opportunities that would take us to a better situation than the existing one. After all, nobody wants to remain stuck in a deep and dark den eternally, therefore we tend to get attracted to even a small flickering light that we find because it could be a sign of a possible way out to a brighter future ahead. In such cases, the parent’s role becomes all the more significant as they anchor the puzzled child to take a detour while tactfully avoiding the roadblocks so that their children are able to reach their destination. No doubt, these known or unknown achievers pose as a role model for many… as the youngsters watch every move that they make and get inspired to follow the trails that these idols lay along the way.

There could have been another name in the above list of achievers – Zaira Wasim. The way she thumped her way with her remarkably flawless acting skill into mainstream hindi cinema is simply mind blowing. But quite recently, she gave a jolt to the whole nation by announcing to quit cinema. Who could have imagined that the gifted girl who made the whole country awestruck with each outing at the box office would make such a decision. For many of us who live far away from the shambles that Jammu and Kashmir deals with, it resembles a maze full of Rashomon effect, where one could easily get disillusioned and lost because at every juncture it presents a different version of the same story. I often wonder, what could have been the real reason behind her exit or rather what made her to crack-up? No doubt, the entertainment industry comes with its own share of stress and pressure which could possibly pose as a huge burden on a young shoulder. Besides, time and again she has also been subjected to extra scrutiny and grinding than what was called-for. Right from the beginning of her stint in cinema there have been instances where separatists did not take things that she did or the people that she met in a good light. Therefore, Zaira had to endure their constant verbal lashing. During those days, it was hard for me to comprehend her fearful, apologetic and calculated behavior. But gradually, I realized how difficult life must have been for her and numerous children like her who grow up in the backyard of terror. Let’s not forget that years of living in fear and being oppressed takes a huge toll on the psyche of an individual. 

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Even Though, I genuinely wish Zaira is able to deal with her inner turmoil and figure out the real purpose of her life so that she lives a contented life but deep within… I still can’t lose hope that someday she might realize the fact that she has been gifted with a wonderful talent by the almighty which should not go in vain. I still can’t understand how a profession can become a hindrance to one’s faith and religion (as stated by her before quitting acting)? Personally, I feel one can serve God by performing one’s occupational duties well. Haven’t we heard of artists being closer to God? By being part of meaningful projects she could have been closer to the creator as well and his creations. But presuming her decision was governed by external factors, for instance if she was scared of becoming an outcast in the eyes of fundamentalists and society or perhaps a threat to her family’s life then it is a matter of concern. In that case it would be shameful for all of us as that would mean that  we have failed in protecting the interests of our children. This reminds me of an African saying, “It takes an entire village to raise a child.” The society as a whole has a responsibility to take care of and protect the children. Interestingly, a society not just comprises of only ordinary people from all walks of life instead it also includes politicians, fundamentalists and separatist alike. These people possess within themselves the power to influence people. And unfortunately, this could be a colossal problem for any society as its so-called stalwarts fail to understand that due to their squabbling over fringy and petty matters the development of innocent souls get hampered. Moreover, living in such a melancholic environment affects the mental well being of the people. In the past we have witnessed incidents where children and young adults were mobilized to participate in stone pelting activity or take up arms. I wonder if the people who instigate the youth to indulge in such things encourage their own children to participate in them? Or, do they conveniently play with the fate of others children while tactfully shielding their own progeny with security cover? It is so pathetic to see the inability in refraining from double standards, by the same people who holds a responsible position in the society. 

In the present scenario with Jammu and Kashmir becoming a union territory of India, I hope it brings dawn of a new era in this region. While the world has its eyes glued on this part of the country, it is up to all of us to show maturity and sensitivity in handling this issue. And gradually, help it to re-discover and prepare itself to come face to face with Jahangir’s idea of ‘heaven on earth’. No doubt, as of now it might be limping or rather clawing back to normalcy but with proper vision, support and patience from all quarters it could stand on its feet and this could be a turning point for the residents of Jammu and Kashmir and for the whole country. The real achievement for us would be when Kashmiri society regains its vigor and come into the mainstream. This could happen when their youth get to enjoy equal opportunities just like their peers from other parts of the country. Moreover, when there is none with vested interest to manipulate their sentiments and beliefs, that is when they would march towards a brighter future without having an iota of fear or doubt . After all, just like every child on earth they too are entitled to feel happy, free, secured and most importantly… to dream.

– By Aradhana Basu Das

Break free from the shackles

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As memories of my past experience with Sanskrit are still fresh in my mind, advertisements regarding crash courses offered in different languages often made me  wonder how can someone learn a language in such a short span. As ironic as it may sound in spite of having Sanskrit as a third language at the school (for four years) this could not make me to construct even simple sentences, let alone speak the language fluently. However, as days went by instead of having a regret for not being able to learn this ancient Indian language the question of its utility in modern times often came to my mind. But as fate took its course, I landed up in an introductory session for spoken Sanskrit classes which was conducted in our society by Samskrita Bharati. It’s a non profit organization which has been working relentlessly towards reviving Sanskrit to its past glory. They conduct ten days capsule classes for two-hours duration for basic Sanskrit conversational skill and that too without charging anything from students. They have designed an unique and effective method of teaching this ancient language which is also known as ‘Deva Bhasha’. Though I wasn’t expecting to continue beyond a session, to my surprise our ever smiling and energetic teacher Deepika presented before us an unconventional approach of teaching by using toys, chart papers, gestures. She had created an interactive and inclusive environment compared to what we were introduced at the school. That day I realized that Sanskrit is not tough but the curriculum that were designed for schools in India were faulty. I was also astonished to find out about few of the striking benefits of speaking in Sanskrit. For instance, Sanskrit improves and expands the brain, our tongue muscles are fully utilized while we speak in this language and of course it is one of the most structured and computer friendly languages the world has known so far.

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Sometime during those ten days I got to know about Panini, who is considered as father of linguistics, a great Sanskrit philologist, a revered grammarian from ancient India. So, on coming back home that day I tried collecting more information about Panini. While digging deep into his life I came across a very interesting story. Though, I don’t know about its authenticity but found it extremely inspiring. Thus thought of sharing.

In around 500-600 BC, there lived a great scholar by the name of Pani near the bank of river Indus. Pani and his wife Dakshi were blessed with a son known as Panini. Panini was an active, little boy and was loved by his parents very dearly. One day, an old friend of Pani who also happened to be a great scholar, an astrologer and a palmist had payed him a visit. He enjoyed great hospitality at Pani’s place. Just after lunch while both the friends were relaxing, Pani’s scholarly friend he noticed little Panini. Obediently, Panini sat near him and showed him his palm on being asked to do so. While he took time and meticulously studied the lines of Panini’s palm, Pani watched the whole process patiently. Pani noticed that slowly his learned friend’s face which looked joyful initially had started to embody grave concern. He asked his friend what was bothering him. The scholarly man looked at Pani with great sympathy in his eyes and said, “Oh my dear friend! Ultimately, we are all puppets in the hands of fate. On one hand you have acquired so much knowledge that people come seeking your advice from places far and wide but on the other hand your son is destined remain illiterate all his life.”

“I don’t doubt your knowledge but could you please check one more time?”, Pani requested while still in shock.

The friend looked at horror stricken Pani and softly assured him in a comforting voice, “I have checked several times but the line of education could not be found. It is certain for him to remain illiterate.” Pani closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

All this while Panini was listening to their conversation very carefully and very politely requested the learned man, “ Could you please let me know where exactly the line of education would have been had it been there on my palm?”

Pani and his friend looked sympathetically at the little boy. The latter showed Panini the area on palm where the line of education should have been. Panini quickly ran out of the room leaving both the men bewildered. After sometime he came back and put his palm forward saying, “Now that I have a line right there on my palm… will I become a scholar when I grow up?”

Both the men were shocked to see Panini’s palm, for it was oozing with blood. The conversation between both the men had made such an impact on little Panini’s mind that he had etched a line with a stone on his palm, the line run down his palm at the same place where the line of education should have been there. This act of Panini left both the wise men absolutely speechless.

But somewhere down the line as a father Pani could not accept this as absolute truth. As days went by Pani witnessed unquenchable desire to acquire knowledge in his young son. That’s when he took the responsibility upon himself to teach young Panini all that he could. Moreover, in order to get more knowledge Pani used to meditate on Lord Shiva. Interestingly, it is believed that Panini is the one who has formulated Sanskrit morphology, syntax and semantics in 3959 sutras called Ashtadhyayi, the foundation of the grammatical branch of Vedanga. His verses influenced many scholars of that time to engage in bhashyas (commentaries).

Here was a man who defied and scripted the course of his own destiny with dedication and hard work. Moreover, Pani’s role as a father is exemplary as he was able to break free from the shackles of fear, self pity and doubt and identified the spark in little Panini thus supported him all along. The father and son duo must have channelized their energy and enjoyed the whole process of evolving rather than dwelling too much on the uncertainties of future. I wonder how much Panini could have achieved had his father not believed in his abilities. This story serves as an important lesson for me, not just as an individual but also as a parent. As I understand that raising a child could be rough sailing at times. We have to accept that our children don’t come into our lives served in a silver platter. Instead they come tagged with their own set of abilities as well as challenges. It is up to us to tab their potential and channelize their energy towards that which they are good at. So that they too can act to their full potential and write the script of their life their way.

– By Aradhana Basu Das

The lifeline – in Peril

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Nitin sat in the car with a promise in his heart to come back soon. As it drove away, every time he looked through the window he saw his loved ones standing at the gateway. With every mile that he covered, the image of them become all the more blurred to him. It was difficult to leave behind the people who had all the time in this world to shower unconditional love upon him. While swallowing a lump in his throat he looked vaguely at things that were crossing by. On reaching the river bank, the newly planted saplings caught his attention. While watching them sway happily in gentle breeze off the Ganges, Nitin couldn’t believe that in a way he had played a stellar role in placing the newbies in their current location. He was imagining them in full bloom executing the role that has been assigned to them when their time comes. He felt happy to be able to deal with the herculean task of mitigating threats from different quarters and bringing everyone on one page with a lot of tact and perseverance. As a result, not just Ajit but a few more land owners and their sharecroppers had also agreed to grow fruits in their land near the river bank. During this time Nitin came across this aspect of human nature wherein one realizes one’s true potential only if pushed to a brink, left with no other choice but to stand up and deliver. But he was surprised to realize how his grandpa was confident about his abilities while he himself felt standing on a shaky ground.

He thought to himself, “What a phenomenal journey it was! My initial plan was so different from what it finally shaped up. Ironically, no matter how much one feels sure about future or plans for it, ultimately one has to toe in line with the designs of God. About three months ago, when my previous project was on the verge of completion, I was weighing between the two overseas prospects that I had, one in Egypt and the other in Cambridge as they seemed more challenging. But accepting an offer nearer to home wasn’t even in the race”, Nitin thought to himself. He leaned back on his seat and made himself comfortable in preparation for his travel back to the state capital. From there he has to leave for Varanasi as he had chosen to join Banaras Hindu University as a visiting faculty. Keeping his eyes closed, he sat introspecting over the chain of events that took place in the past which contributed largely in choosing to stay back in India for sometime, over going overseas. As the car approached airport Nitin felt very nostalgic as memories come flashing back because this is where it had all begun.  

 

About three months ago…

…As soon as the flight touched down the runway at Patna airport, Nitin’s heart skipped a beat. His excitement knew no bounds as this family reunion was long awaited. After collecting his luggage, he tried getting in touch with Sankar who has been their driver since a long time. Shankar was supposed to pick him up from the airport and take him to Simariya, to his grandparents’ home. Nitin had already started thinking about meeting his family. Especially his grandpa, who has been a friend, mentor and his greatest support since childhood. The urge to meet him was all the more significant after his recent brush with success, his first major accomplishment as an archaeologist. Failed attempts to get in touch with Shankar was making Nitin all the more restless. Strange are the ways of human emotions, for they signal the mind to act differently at different circumstances. Ironically, on one hand he had managed to stay away from his loved ones for years in order to respect his work commitments. But on the other hand now that he has come so near, he didn’t have the patience to wait for three more hours. How he wished to reach there right away.

He called his mother to know Shankar’s whereabouts. “Hello Maa! Where is Shankar bhaiya?”

“Nitin, he is with us. I tried getting in touch with you but your phone was switched off. We are on our way to Patna…with grandfather.” Nitin’s mother, Gauri answered in a hurry.

“Why, what’s the matter? What’s happened to grandpa?” Nitin bombarded a series of questions.

“This morning he was so excited and happy, he was really looking forward to meet you but about two hours ago he became senseless.” Gauri said.

“Oh!” Nitin couldn’t say a word beyond this.

“I think, we should be at our nursing home within an hour.” she continued, “In the meantime, why don’t you go home, freshen up and eat something. The journey must have been quite tiring for you.” Gauri said.

“No, that’s okay, I am coming straight away.” Nitin said, dismissing his mother’s suggestion.

“Is it serious? Will he became alright?” he asked with apprehension.

“Let’s hope for the best” Gauri answered quickly.

His mother’s words left him speechless as deep inside he could make out the gravity of the situation. Without wasting much time he hired a cab and proceeded towards his new destination – Lifeline nursing home. After so many years he was visiting the city where he grew up. As the cab took twists and turns through roads and by-lanes, the city presented before him its more developed and vibrant version, but unfortunately he seemed to register nothing. For sometime he was totally engulfed by his own thoughts so much that he couldn’t even notice that the cab had already arrived at the nursing home. He heard a voice repeatedly calling him.

“Sahab, sahab, your destination has come.” said the cab driver.

“Hmm, what?” Nitin said confused.

“Lifeline nursing home” the cab driver said pointing out his finger.
“Oh… okay” Nitin said getting back from a trance that he got into. “Sorry, I didn’t notice”, saying which he paid the cabbie and got out of the car.

Nitin looked around and thought to himself, “In my wildest of dreams, did I ever imagine that I would have to meet grandpa here, in this manner?”

Just then, he heard the sound of an ambulance siren, which gradually become louder and louder as the vehicle approached the nursing home. The sound pierced his heart making it to palpitate faster and he thought to himself, “Is grandpa in that ambulance or are they bringing him in a car?”

Very soon the ambulance zoomed inside and a car raced behind it. As soon as the ambulance halted near the emergency department, porter boys and nurses rushed towards the ambulance. After seeing his grandmother inside the car he immediately rushed towards it. Nitin opened the rear door and helped his grandmother to come out. He wiped her teary eyes and embraced her tightly and reassured her, “He’ll be fine.”

“Good that you are here, Nitin.” Lata, Nitin’s grandmother almost choked while she said.

In the meanwhile, his parents with the help of hospital staff brought Amarendra, his grandfather out of the ambulance. For a fraction of seconds, Nitin stood motionless on seeing his grandfather lying on a stretcher with a oxygen mask on. It was unthinkable for him to see his once robust grandfather in that condition. While they wheeled him off to the emergency unit, Nitin noticed his grandmother’s anxiety in leaving her husband’s side.

He quickly came forward and held her to say, “Grandma, let’s wait outside.” She gave him a confused look and blurted out, “But I think I should be around! What if he needs me… needs anything?”

“This is a critical moment, the medical team shouldn’t get disturbed. Isn’t it, Grandma?” Nitin said politely to which she nodded her head in affirmation. They both sat in the waiting area just near the emergency unit. He felt nervous as he had never faced such a situation before, where a loved one is hanging between life and death. Even though he wanted to break the silence and comfort Lata, he fell short of words. After sometime Shankar came there with some tea.

“Shankar bhaiya, what really had happened? I thought he was recovering.” Nitin asked while sipping tea.

“He was recovering no doubt, but… he was exerting a bit too much.” Shankar added.

“Exerting a bit too much?” Nitin repeated in a surprised tone as if to ask what does that mean.

“Quite recently, a team of social workers had come and approached dadaji to help them in their mission to save Ganges from depletion.”

“Oh! So, now the Ganges…” Nitin wondered. Instantly, his thoughts went back to the recently concluded project on the decline of Indus valley civilization of which he was a part.

“And how has grandpa been affected by all this?” Nitin inquired.

“He has been going around with those people, meeting different agencies in an quest for a change for better. And in this process he neglected his health.” Shankar said.

“And ever since the result of your research came out he got all the more motivated with this mission. Whenever I used to ask him why was he exerting so much as he had fully not recovered, he would say ‘Look, how Indus valley civilization declined. Aren’t we too sitting on a time bomb ticking slowly, leading us all to a catastrophe?’ This is not for me, this is for our future generations.” Grandmother added.

Meanwhile, every now and then Nitin was peeping inside the emergency unit from the small glass window that was fixed on the door in an attempt to evaluate the situation. Inside, the atmosphere looked quite intense and sombre. The medical team went about their course of action with a great sense of urgency.

After sometime, Mahesh his father, came out to talk to them.

“How is he, papa? Is he out of danger?” Nitin inquired.

Mahesh nodded. He looked quite tensed.

“Can pneumonia be fatal?” Nitin whispered.

“It can be life threatening for an elderly person, as they have other ailments too… so that makes things all the more difficult. Anyways, we have to keep him under observation before taking any decision.” Mahesh said.

“What do you need to decide?” Nitin asked in a confused tone.

“Whether to shift him to intensive care unit or a private room.” Mahesh replied while keeping his eyes fixed on his mother who seemed to be soaked in her own thoughts. He then went and sat next to her silently holding her hand. His touch made her to startle and question, “Oh, you! How is he?’’

“Maa, you don’t worry.” Mahesh said with a sigh and continued. “He’ll be fine, we are…” That’s when someone came to call him from the emergency unit. Mahesh quickly left the scene. His bewildered mother looked at Nitin with lot of questions in her eyes. Nitin overheard their conversation about grandpa’s deteriorating condition and their discussions regarding shifting him to the intensive care unit. But he choose to refrain himself from disclosing about this to his grandmother immediately. Deep within, Nitin was experiencing a cocktail of emotions, bubbling up to the brim but he had to keep them bottled up in order to portray a brave face and provide solace to his grandmother.

“He’ll recover, grandma.” Nitin said in a reassuring tone.

“Yeah. He has to… He can’t be leaving so soon.” Her eyes sparkled with tears but her voice had undeterred conviction.

Meanwhile, after evaluating his father’s condition Mahesh inferred that uncertainty loomed large. Therefore, he tried to convince his mother not to stay there, as the wait could turn out to be endless. But she didn’t budge to any of the logical suggestions that he made. To Nitin’s surprise, neither he saw her agreeing to visit her husband twice a day nor he saw any interest from her side to get preferential treatment in the nursing home.

“I am not leaving this place without him.” she said adamantly .

“What strength of character… I never knew that she was gritty.” Nitin thought to himself.

While Nitin watched his otherwise timid looking grandmother in admiration, Mahesh looked aghast at her firmness. In order to avoid an obvious tussle between both of them, Nitin looked at his father in persuasion to leave things to him.

“Grandma, people are there to take care of him.” Nitin tried to convince her.

“And how much do you think do they know him?” She asked right away. All his attempts to convince her were foiled by her rigidity. He couldn’t really understand her but choose to respect her stand.

The next few days were very critical for Amarendra as he walked a tightrope between hope and despair. Time and again Nitin was astonished to see that it wasn’t just the medical team who were helping the septuagenarian to come out of this ordeal, but there was someone else as well… his soulmate, his wife. Many a times when it seemed extremely difficult for Amarendra to survive this phase, she would sit next to him holding his hand or caressing his forehead gently, and immediately his vitals showed positive signs. It was as if her silent prayers, her resilience were steering their relationship through the tempest which had become hell bound to wreck their partnership of nearly five decades. Nitin was amazed to see how their contrasting personalities did not come in the way to the camaraderie that they shared. Instead, with time that made a way for them to develop into each other’s strength. He now understood why she was reluctant to leave her husband’s side.

During those difficult days, well wishers would often flock in from Simariya. It was from them that Nitin got the details of Amarendra’s involvement in the mission to save the Ganges. He believed that if his grandfather has put his hand in this work then there must be something about it. Since then, amidst his grandfather’s recovery concerns and running around at the hospital, he started gathering more and more information related to this topic as his mind constantly hovered around a thought… he feared that what ever happened with Indus valley civilization could become the fate of settlements in the Gangetic plains too. From the insight that he gained, he could make out that in a way the Indian subcontinent is blessed, because from her womb originates numerous rivers. These lifelines have made the soil fertile. As a result agriculture based economy could thrive, paving a way for it to become a cradle for many ancient but advanced settlements. After the downfall of Indus valley civilization, people migrated towards the Gangetic plains, slowly populating it along the flow of the river. Gradually, Vedic culture evolved followed by numerous empires emerging in the ancient cities situated near the banks of the very same river. Finally, making this land prosperous to the extent that it was known as the “Golden sparrow” the world over. In a way these perennial rivers flowing through the subcontinent were instrumental in elevating it to the level it had attained. Unfortunately, unable to withstand the backlash of mankind, these lifelines are depleting day by day.

“These assets might not be available eternally if not cared for.” Nitin would often think to himself. He could comprehend the power that a river possess. On one hand if it has an ability of a nurturer, the same river could create havoc for those it had nurtured once.

Finally, after days of playing cat and mouse with death, Amarendra regained his consciousness. On getting the good news his dear ones including Nitin came and surrounded him.

He smiled at Nitin and exclaimed, “Nitin! You have come! You are here?” he said with a tinge of disbelieve.

“Yes, grandpa” Nitin answered holding his needle pricked hand tenderly.

“When did you come?” Amarendra asked.

“Few days back” Nitin replied.

“And, since when am I here?” Amarendra asked looking here and there. He had a streak of restless as if his eyes were searching for someone in particular.

“I’ll go and find Grandma.” Nitin said hurriedly after sensing that it could be her that Amarendra was looking for.

As Nitin turned, he saw her coming in. Calm and composed, she walked towards Amerandra while the latter’s eyes firmly fixed on her.

“Indeed, he was searching for her…” Nitin thought to himself. They smiled at each other.

“Do you feel better now?” she asked fondly. To which Amarendra nodded his head slightly.

For most of them it went unnoticed but Nitin saw that his grandfather looked peaceful now. All these years Nitin didn’t have a clue that it is actually his low profile grandmother who has been a constant source of strength to his gigantically dynamic grandfather. Now, having observed them closely, he had some idea about the depth of his grandparents’ relationship. He realized that just because it is not displayed, real love doesn’t ceases to exist. On the contrary, with time it stops floating on the shallow waters which skirts the shores. Instead, with maturity it ventures further, diving deep into the sea.

Very soon Amarendra was shifted to a private room. Nitin felt nostalgic getting inside that room. Many years ago, after he had undergone an operation for appendicitis, he was recovering in the very same room. He was taken aback to see that the view from the window had changed drastically. It had once overlooked the Ganges but sadly now only a small portion of the river could be seen amid modern day jungle… buildings of concrete. Next couple of days that Nitin spent with his grandparents was unique as he was experiencing a complete role reversal. The smart and energetic man who had once helped young Nitin to put his shirt buttons correctly was being helped by the latter to put a shirt on his fragile body. Many a times, after failed attempts to get up from the bed Amarendra would stretch his hand towards Nitin who would quickly hold him tight and help to lift his body. During those moments, in a flash, memories of childhood days would pop in Nitin’s mind. Years ago when little Nitin was learning to ride a cycle he would invariably see a hand after falling from the cycle, it was the same hand that he was holding now. Those days of course those hands were strong enough to pull Nitin in one go. Fortunately, Nitin was able to witness this part of the life’s wheel as well.

While watching the morning sun popping out behind the high rises, three of them would often talk about things closer to their heart. One such narration made a lasting impact on Nitin. Years ago, just after Amarendra and Lata had got married the whole family along with the newly weds went for a pilgrimage to Varanasi. Back in their days, honeymoon was a western concept and had not caught up with the Indians. Instead, coming from the land of spirituality, they preferred religious tourism. Surprisingly, neither did they travel by roadways nor by railways. As the road-cum-rail bridge which stands erect across the river Ganges had still not come up.Those days waterways use to be an important mode of transport. Boat rides for as short a distance as attending a school across the river to as long a distance like sailing on a ferry boat from Kolkata to Allahabad was the norm.They had boarded a ferry from Simariya and for next couple of days sailed on the Ganges before reaching Varanasi. They started their life together on the very same journey which was an experience of a lifetime, especially for Lata as she had not ventured out of her village before.

“We sailed for days with only water all around, watching the sky touching down the river at the distant horizon, watching the celestial bodies paint hues on the clouds and water as they rise and set, the rhythmic sound of the oar as it rowed, freshness in the breeze, coupled with soulful food. It was… it was nothing but pure bliss.” Lata’s face beamed with excitement as she narrated. It was as if she was reliving those moments all over again.

“Was the water sufficient enough for a cruise to sail like that?” Nitin asked.

“Oh yes! We had enough water in the Ganges. Besides it was considerably clean and pure, hence we drank the same water.” Amarendra said.

“What? Without treating the water?” Nitin blurted in utter dismay. “These days Ganges has become so contaminated that it is not advisable to to take a holy dip in the river, let alone drink that water.” he lamented.

“But that was not the case in olden days. If you compare the lifeless water that you keep on gulping out of these bottles with Ganges water of yesteryear, the former wouldn’t stand a chance.” Lata said pointing at the plastic mineral water bottle.

Simultaneously Amarendra laughed out loud and said “From time immemorial we have believed in the purity of water of Ganga. This faith, of Ganges having cleansing and medicinal properties has been handed over to us by our sages and scriptures and now it has been scientifically proven that it demonstrates bactericidal properties.” After a pause he continued, “I remember hearing… the British voyagers would carry gallons of Ganges water to be consumed on their way back to England as it didn’t rot so easily. It is very unfortunate that out of ignorance we have taken this river for granted, abusing it to its current state. Calling it a mother or worshiping it is not enough… we have to care for it. The sad truth is that it’s depleting and we are not doing much.”

“Yeah, indeed it is depleting. From past couple of days I have been reading a lot about these things. It seems over the years, the garbage that have been dumped, starting from domestic sewage to municipal wastes to industrial effluents to temple wastes in plastic bags… the endless list of pollutants are choking the Ganges and other rivers to death. Besides, population explosion, urbanization and climate also has a role to play in rendering our perennial rivers a seasonal one.” Nitin said.

“Yes, we are now aware how the ancient civilization of Indus valley perished due to climatic changes, a repercussion of river Indus changing its course. Keeping that into consideration, now it could be Gangetic plains next.” Amarendra added.

“Alas! the river Ganges, life-line to millions of Indians has become an endangered river!” Lata sighed.

There prevailed a momentary silence in the room as they sat contemplating.

“Grandpa, so how is this problem being dealt here?” Nitin asked.

Apparently, there are issues in this regard to work upon. In order to cater the state’s development processes, the construction industry is growing in leaps and bounds. Therefore on one hand sand mining has become a regular feature near the bank of the river and on the other forest covers are fast reducing. Moreover, being a industrial hub of the state, this place boasts of many large and small scale industries. Effluents from nearby industries get discharged into the river.” Amarendra added.

“Primarily, food crops are grown on our land. Your grandpa is talking to Ajit, about growing local varieties of fruits instead of seasonal crops… Ajit is not quite convinced though.” Lata added. They have acres of land in their native village, which has been handed over to them from generations but they are not involved in farming directly instead they give the responsibility to Ajit, their sharecropper. The profit is of course shared between both the parties latter.

“Why? I mean… what’s wrong with cereals?” Nitin asked.

“It is not the question of cereals, but floods. This region is prone to floods. You must be knowing that Ganges is partially glacier fed and partially forest fed river, so ecological changes like global warming and deforestation along with other factors like pollution, sand mining produces a cascading effect on the health of the river. Trees are helpful in retaining excess rainwater, reduce the damage from floods and mitigate drought.” Amarendra clarified and then added, “If left to me, I could grow a forest because my family is not dependent on agriculture for livelihood, but Ajit’s is… commercially it wouldn’t be a viable option for him. That’s why I suggested growing fruits.”

By evening of the very same day, Dr Bhoomi, Dr Satish and Rajesh, the force behind Ganges conservation in this region paid them a visit. While Amarendra was overjoyed to see them and Lata approved their presence too, but Mahesh did not feel comfortable when they had walked in. He disapproved their presence, maybe because he was considering them responsible for his father’s ill health. Before falling severely ill, Amarendra was helping them relentlessly.

Amarendra asked them with a child-like excitement, “How are things proceeding?”

“Umm, Don’t think about anything else before recovering fully”, Dr Bhoomi said.

“No, but.. I am all right now.” Amarendra said in an upbeat mood.

But the way they looked at each other, Amarendra got a cue that things are not progressing smoothly at their end.

“Tell me what is it.” Amarendra insisted upon being told.

“Good news is, couple of farmers and landowners are showing interest in fruit plantation. Besides, our researchers are trying to figure out if Miyawaki technique could be used by the villagers as forest grows faster using this method or if inter-cropping could be more beneficial as it would be commercially more viable for the farmers.” Dr Bhoomi said diplomatically avoiding to discuss the negative proceedings.

“What’s Miyawaki technique?” Nitin asked with curiosity, finally breaking his silence.

“It’s a technique by which forests could be grown in a short period of time using indigenous trees. It was developed by Akira Miyawaki, a Japanese botanist.”, Dr Bhoomi replied.

Amarendra could see beyond what Dr Bhoomi was revealing so he asked her calmly, “Now tell me, what is it that you are not feeling good about.”

While Dr Bhoomi hesitated to speak Rajesh babbled out, “Even though a few industries have realized the necessity of an onsite effluent treatment plant, but it is difficult for them comply due to funds. So…” he continued, “And it is difficult to check sand mining along the bank of the river. They are using their clout to get away with things.”

“Hmm… Of Course, of all the factors that we are dealing with this is the toughest. Is this all that is bothering you?” Amarendra said, “When can I go back home?” he asked his son

“You have to stay here for sometime as you haven’t fully recovered yet.” Mahesh replied.

Thereafter, they sat silently. Amarendra seemed to be in a deep thought, “Nitin, for how many days are you still here? Where are you heading next?” he broke his silence with these questions.

“I have a few offers from various places… I am yet to finalize anything. I have roughly… fifty days before leaving, I guess.” Nitin replied.

For the first time during the whole conversation Mahesh looked really interested in something. Like any other Indian middle class father, he was not able to hide his exuberance he felt for his son’s success hence he asked smiling, “Oh! So, what are those offers?”

“I have…” Nitin was about to answer him when Amarendra interrupted by saying, ”Can you go with them and assist them in their work?”

“Me, Grandpa?” Nitin fumbled.

“Yes, you. Can you?” Amarendra asked again.

“What are you saying? Do you want my son to leave his flourishing career for your meaningless campaigns? How safe it is to get into all this? Ganges is depleting… what shall I do if it is depleting? How is it our concern?” Mahesh asked in a furious tone.

“No, no. He need not join us. I think we should leave”, Dr Bhoomi said, getting up quickly in order to stop the discussion.

“Mahesh, you are being rude to your father.” Lata said, displeased over her son’s behaviour.

Mahesh continued hysterically “And why do you want to grow fruits on our land now? None of us are coming back to the village to stay. Why do you still hold on to…?”

Amarendra looked at the visitors and said firmly, “No wait. You need not go anywhere.” then turned to Mahesh to reply very calmly, “Mahesh, try to look beyond the four walls of your nursing home. What kind of life are you leading? You don’t even have some spare time to think where are you heading or what is the purpose of this life…”

“Should we make a move?” Dr Satish said looking at his colleagues. They were all feeling awkward sitting there.

To which Amarendra signaled them to wait while he continued speaking to Mahesh, “If it has not bothered you before, then start thinking about it now. As per predictions, by the year 2030 India could face a major water scarcity. Around five hundred million people are still dependent on the Ganges… the river is drying during summers due to the decline of groundwater inflow. Interestingly during monsoons, a flood-like situation arises as there are scarce trees to help rainwater to seep into the ground properly. In future, these could affect food production and availability of water drastically. Think over this scenario, Mahesh. And, don’t dwell under an impression that you and your family won’t be affected by this.”

“Look back in the past, if an agriculture based economy like Indus valley civilization could crumble due to climatic changes and river changing its course, then this could happen with Gangetic civilization as well.” Nitin added.

“And, Ganges is not just depleting but changing its course too. We need trees near the banks of rivers in order to negate erosion and flooding. Unfortunately, this is the case with most of the rivers in India… they are in a pathetic state. I know, we can’t keep everything aside and jump into the cause but we shouldn’t miss an opportunity to do something which is well within our reach.” Amarendra said softly.

That night, Nitin stayed back with his grandfather. They both tossed and turned on their respective beds as deep introspection eroded sleep from their eyes and a strange silence prevailed in the room. Separately, they both were thinking about the episode that occurred in the evening. Even though Amarendra didn’t admit, but he felt disheartened at Mahesh’s behavior. On the other hand Nitin was pained to see his grandfather’s helplessness.

“In the past he has always stood by me like a rock, removing as many obstacles as possible that came my way. I know I can never repay that back but still… it’s my turn now ”, Nitin thought to himself. Nitin tried evaluating the prospects of going to Simariya even though he felt skeptical about his ability to contribute to the cause but he had blind trust on Amarendra’s conviction.

After ages, that night, he tried recalling a long forgotten poem ‘Manjil Dur Nahi Hai’ written by Ramdhari Singh Dinkar, the national poet of India. Hailing from the same village as the revolutionary poet Dinkar, the stalwart and his poems created a huge impact on the personality of Amarendra. Nitin had lot of boyhood memories associated with this poem. Many a times Amarendra would quote the first few line of Dinkar’s verse when he saw Nitin demoralized in order to uplift the latter’s battered spirits. Nitin quickly went to his grandfather’s side and called out, “Grandpa, grandpa… are you awake?”

Amarendra turned towards Nitin to find him recite the poem.

“Vah Pradeep Jo Dikh Raha Hai Jhilmil, Dur Nahi Hai

Thak Kar Baith Gayae Kui Bhai, Manzil Dur Nahi hai…”

(The lamp that you see shining is not very far away; my brother, why do sit feeling dejected! the destination is not quite far away…)

Amarendra hurriedly got out of the bed and joined him in reciting the poem. After they had finished reciting those lines, tears rolled down Amarendra’s cheeks as he was overpowered with emotions. Nitin embraced him tightly and said, “I am leaving for Simariya tomorrow morning. See you soon, Grandpa.”

– By Aradhana Basu Das

The lifeline – lost and found

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It was late in the evening when Nitin came out of the lab, after spending hours analyzing samples that were collected during excavation. He was in an upbeat mood, eager to share his excitement with the team as the outcome of analysis was positive. Nitin is an archeologist who is working in an international project, consisting of specialists from interdisciplinary fields. They are studying the actual cause of decline of Indus valley civilization. While he hurried towards the Jeep, his phone started vibrating. He slipped his hand into the side pocket of his jeans to take the phone out. It was a call from his father Mahesh.

Nitin called out, “Hello, Papa”.

“How are you, Nitin?”, Mahesh inquired.

“I’m Good”, Nitin replied, but sensed something amiss. “What has happened? You don’t sound okay”.

“Yeah… actually from sometime now, your grandfather has not been keeping well. No matter how much he was cajoled to come and stay with us, he showed reluctance to do so. You see, a persistent cough that has taken a shape of pneumonia”, Mahesh informed.

“Okay, so now…”, Nitin said pensively.

“Even though he was taking medicines… but grandma had called up to inform us that he has been experiencing breathlessness from a week.” Mahesh was interrupted by Nitin. “What? breathlessness…”

“Yes, hearing which, we rushed to Simariya. After a brief stay at a hospital he is back to home now”, Mahesh added.

“How is he… now?”, Nitin asked.

“He is recovering slowly”, Mahesh became silent.

Nitin asked in desperation, unable to bear the silence, “Is there anything that you are hiding from me?”

“Well… he wants to meet you, spend a few days with you. Can you make that possible, Nitin?” Mahesh asked with hesitation.

“No Papa, I can’t come now. I mean…”, Nitin said immediately.

Mahesh could sense that his son was getting disturbed by this conversation. As a result he quickly said,“That’s okay son, I can understand that you have work commitments”.

And then he changed the topic and asked, “How is your work going on?”

“Good, it is at a critical juncture. You could expect to hear from us anytime soon”, Nitin said.

“Oh! That’s wonderful”, Mahesh exclaimed.

“Papa, I can’t miss this opportunity. I have been waiting for this moment for years”, Nitin said with a tinge of guilt in his voice.

“Don’t think about it much and remain focused. Grandpa would understand”, Mahesh said. “Give him a call sometime, he’ll feel better”, he suggested.

“Sure, I will…”, Nitin replied.

After this conversation, Nitin drove to the place where the whole team was put up.That night the whole team had their dinner amidst discussions on the day’s development and next plan of action and speculations. In the archaeological world, the actual cause of decline of this civilization has always been regarded as a final frontier. Something at this scale have never been done before. They were all charged up as they could see a possibility of a landmark discovery, something for which they have been working hard for almost five years now.

After dinner, everyone dispersed to their respective rooms, except for Nitin. While he was walking through the corridor, he could feel the cold breeze, caressing and ruffling him. As if to compel him to linger there before calling it a night. Watching the spectacular star studded sky, he was reminded of a childhood memory. Every summer vacation during his visits to grandparent’s home, on hot summer nights they would sleep on the terrace. While laying on separate charpoys, watching millions of stars twinkling in the sky, feeling the breeze blowing from the Ganges, they would talk for hours before slowly falling asleep. He felt nostalgic, a strange familiarity in this ambience. But ironically, for him this moment was far from peaceful as he felt a tempest within him.

Meanwhile, Akshay, a fellow archeologist and a good friend of Nitin saw him from his window. Wondering what was Nitin doing there on a cold desert night, he proceeded towards him. Nitin was too engrossed in his thought processes and hence couldn’t feel his presence.

“Hey buddy! All good?” Akshay asked, almost startling him.

“Oh, hi Akshay”, He responded.

“ I… I hope everything is okay?”, Akshay asked with hesitation.

Nitin forced himself to smile and said, “Yeah”.

Akshay looked at Nitin, he seemed to be in deep thought and somewhat disturbed.

After a bit of silence, Nitin spoke out, “My grandfather is not keeping well”.

“Oh! ”, Akshay exclaimed. With curiosity in his eyes he watched Nitin quietly, expecting more to come.

“He is interested to meet me”, Nitin said.

“I see”, Akshay sighed. After a pause.

“All my fond childhood memories are with my grandparents and not with my parents. My parents used to be busy with their patients… they hardly had any time left for us. Papa was busy building his career. But on the contrary, my grandfather had different priorities in life. After graduating from medical college, my grandfather chose to go back to his native place and serve his people as their was a dearth of doctors there. He led a very simple and peaceful life there.” Nitin said.

“Where do they live? You had mentioned once, but I forgot”, Akshay inquired.

“Simariya, a peaceful village in Bihar near the banks of river Ganges”, Nitin said.

“I am trying to imagine… it must have been wonderful”, Akshay said smiling.

“Yeah, those moments were so beautiful. I vividly remember… those early morning walks down the river bank, sitting there comfortably for hours, watching the sunrise, the breeze forming ripples in the water, small boats sailing and their oars making rhythmic sounds in the water, men and women taking a dip in the holy Ganges.”

“Hmm, enchanting!”, Akshay exclaimed.

“Yes, we used to discuss about historical events, ancient Indian history during those moments. I was introduced to Harappan culture, Maurya, Vijayanagara, Mughal and Maratha empires long before I had studied about them at the school”, Nitin said.

“Oh, so he introduced you to these things!” Akshay exclaimed.

“Yes, you could say so. I still remember my first visit to the ruins of Nalanda University with him. I was about ten at that time. That visit changed my life for ever. Both of us had got engrossed in those ruins. Luckily, during that time we happened to meet a couple of field archaeologists working at the site. And I had said to my grandfather, “This is what I want to become when I grow up”. With belief and pride he told me,“Whatever you wish”.

“And… what was his equation with his other grandchildren?”, Akshay asked inquisitively.

“I have always been very special to him. Maybe because with me he could experience grandparenthood in a true sense. We lived in Patna, a few hours drive from him. But others lived in distant places. As a result he didn’t get to spend much time with them”, Nitin sighed and silently drifted into his thoughts.

Now, slowly things were falling in place for Akshay. He could make out what was bothering Nitin so much. He understood that his friend’s emotions were playing a tug of war, trying to pull him on either sides. On one side, thoughts of his grandpa’s ill health, the fact that he wanted to meet him so badly was pulling Nitin and on the other hand his impending project was rendering him helpless. “What can he do, his hands are tied up…”, Akshay thought to himself.

For five years they had toiled hard, confronting challenges at every front and finally they seem to have arrived at a conclusive position where they were about to realign the history of one of the oldest ancient civilizations of the world – The Indus valley civilization. Initially, coordinating with different agencies in order to raise funds was an uphill task. Thereafter, bringing on board scientists from various interdisciplinary fields such as archeology, mathematics, geology and geomorphology and then working in a perfect synchrony with each other for these many  years. This, off course, needed a single-minded approach from the entire crew and a lot of sacrifices at every front. They had erratic work schedules. For instance, during hot summer months, they would work from dawn till lunch in order to avoid extreme heat. Sometimes, they would work at the site for twelve days at a stretch and then take a break of about three days or maybe spend time at the lab analysing things for couple of days.

With the help of advanced technology, they were able to achieve that which their counterparts of yesteryears could not. By combining satellite pictures with topographic data, maps of landforms built by Indus and neighboring rivers were prepared. Which were then drilled and dug manually. Samples that were collected from these trenches were studied to determine the source of sediments there. As a result the researchers were able to form a chronology of the landscape changes in the area.

For the next sixteen days, they worked day and night. For most of them, these were the moments they had always dreamt of living. They were able to conclude that the actual reason for decline of Indus valley civilization was not the Aryan invasion as was assumed by earlier scholars but a shift in the course of rivers and natural disasters like drought and floods.  They also found evidence of a mighty river that no longer exists. The fall in the average rainfall lead to the increase in aridity. As a result, agriculture, upon which most of the trades were dependent also declined. The people gradually shifted to other places, abandoning what is known as an epitome of an advanced early civilization.

HappanProgressionCollage

As from time to time the findings were being published in different journals, a lot of hype had been created around this. The press across the world had its eyes glued, keeping a close watch at the proceedings there. After the mission got accomplished, interviews and press conferences were conducted. Their achievements were hailed far and wide as they had made history.

During one such press conference, Jayanthi – a geologist, was asked by one of the reporters, “How did you choose such an unconventional profession such as geology?”

Hearing this question, Nitin felt a strange tug at his heart. He thought to himself, “It was not easy for me, without grandpa’s support…”

Nitin recalled the moment when he had called up his grandfather to tell him that he had a heated argument with his parents. Coming from a state which is obsessed with more orthodox professions like medical, engineering and administrative services and also being a son of cardiologists, it was not easy for Nitin to choose a road not taken much. Mahesh, Nitin’s father dreamt of sending him to a medical school so that Nitin could hold the reins of their nursing home, but the son wanted to study history. It was astonishing to see how within a few hours of phone call grandfather was by Nitin’s side.

When Nitin had thanked him for coming, his grandfather had said, “I will always be there for you, as long as you need me.”

And when Mahesh had asked with apprehension, “So, what might be his future if he goes for subjects like history?”

To this Nitin’s grandfather gave a pat on Nitin’s back and looked at him confidently and said, “Remember one thing, there is always vacancy at the top. It is up to you, whatever path you wish to choose. But don’t forget to put your heart and soul to excel in the chosen field.”

As time passed, he became extremely busy in his life. As a result, the frequent phone calls to his grandparents had drastically reduced. Especially during his doctoral research, while he was shuttling between Mesopotamia and Indus Valley regions, studying similarities between the ancient civilizations that evolved in these places. It is not that they meant nothing to him any more. But his priorities had changed a bit.

He was brought back to the present when he heard his name being called repeatedly.

“I am sorry, I didn’t hear you. Could you please repeat the question?”, He blurted out to the reporter.

The reporter repeated his question again, “Do you feel the society faced regression after whatever happened?”

“Yeah… of course. For almost a century, Indus valley civilization has been a subject of muse for many a scholars, since it was the oldest urban civilization in the world. It had a well developed trade system, cities, metallurgy, sewerage system, script and many other achievements. But still, this urban society witnessed slow regression when they had to deal with the changing climate. For instance, when from urban settlers living in big cities they became rural settlers in many small villages, they no longer needed large granaries as they had to cater only to the needs of smaller units. Trade relations with Mesopotamia and Egypt which they once had, stopped completely. There could be a possibility that they no longer needed to write in their new life, as a result the script was completely forgotten”, Nitin said.

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Cristina, a Romanian geomorphologist was asked by another reporter, “Is this situation a thing of a past or can we face similar problems in future?”

“Yes, there could be a possibility of a similar situation in future too. One thing we can’t forget is that we are still dependent on rivers, they are our lifeline. Even today, we can see them changing their course, decrease in their flow. The perennial rivers in many places are becoming seasonal and also flood like situation is seen during the monsoons. This gradual change is even more dangerous than a sudden event. A sudden change gives us a jolt compelling us to act immediately but a gradual change takes a lot of time to manifest an impact so it is late by the time we start taking it seriously. Agriculture based economy thrived on the fertile soils of Indus and its tributaries but over a period of time the same land got converted into a desert”, Cristina answered.

Soon after the conference Nitin called up his grandfather, “Hello grandpa! How are you?”

“Nitin, I am fine. I saw you on the television and also your father has read a newspaper article for me. It was about your achievements in this project”, Grandfather said with a childlike excitement.

“I am sorry”, Nitin said.

“Sorry, but why?” grandfather asked in a surprised tone.

“Whenever I needed you, you have always been there for me. But I couldn’t reciprocate the same. I couldn’t rush to your side immediately after hearing about your health”, he said.

“No, Nitin. Please don’t feel sorry for anything. I didn’t feel bad, my child”.

“Thank you, grandpa”, Nitin said almost choked.

“For what? It is you who have made us all proud”, grandfather said.

After composing himself, Nitin said, “You have been a great support. I couldn’t have reached here without you.Thank you for loving me unconditionally and having faith in me”. After a pause, Nitin added “I am coming home to see you.”

to be continued…

– By Aradhana Basu Das

Nightmare in Dreamland

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The bell rang. Naina jumped up with joy stating, “Baba has come home. Maa, come fast it must be baba at the door.”

Megha rushed out of the kitchen, wiping her hands to open the door. It was indeed Manas. Megha could make out from the look on his face that he was very tired.

“Has it been an exhaustive day at work?” Megha enquired.

“Yeah…” Manas could barely speak out.

Naina rushed towards her father and embraced his legs with both her arms and started to rant out loudly, “Baba, baba… ”, to which Manas looked at Megha in an utter helplessness. Megha quickly came to his rescue and gently whisked Naina aside saying, “Nanu, you could talk to baba later. Give him some time and in the meanwhile, why don’t you complete your homework?”

And then giving Manas a quick hug she said “You freshen up quickly, I’m preparing some tea for you.”

After he had freshened up, Manas made himself comfortable on the couch. While reading the newspaper he waited for his cup of tea. Megha came in and took a seat beside him. While sipping the hot tea he spoke out, “I’ll have to go to the United States for a few days” and then turned his head to look at Megha for her reaction.

“When?”, Megha asked very coldly.

“On Thursday, next week”, Manas replied.

“Where in the US?”

“Olathe, Kansas”

“When are you coming back?”

“Yet to raise my travel request, at least a month”

After a bit of silence Megha smiled and looked at Manas, her gaze oozed with confidence. “Don’t worry for us, we’ll be fine. You just take care of things at your front.” She said in a reassuring tone.

Manas smiled back at her and holding her hand he said, “I know, you’ll manage well”. Manas knew very well that his wife was just trying to put up a brave face, in order to avoid putting undue stress on him.

Interestingly, unlike the previous generation overseas travel doesn’t make them feel over the moon. Far from excitement, Megha feels more constricted and stressed out. Due to different time zones and Naina’s routine, it becomes quite difficult for both father and daughter to talk more than fifteen minutes on weekdays. As a result Naina becomes quite cranky and unfortunately Megha has to manage things single-handed. In the middle of these conversations, Naina came running and jumped on her father and he in turn embraced her smiling.

“Nanu, have you finished your homework?” Megha asked her daughter.

“Yes Maa”, Naina replied.

Naina and Manas started discussing about the card making competition that was held at her school. Megha glanced at them and she saw her world… her family giggling and chirping happily around her and she thought to herself, “My small, cozy and blissful retreat in this big world.”

Unlike other mothers, she doesn’t feel left out in between a father and daughter. She instead feels an indescribable peace within, watching them together. Even though in order to claim sole proprietorship on her father Naina prefers to throw her mother out of the equation, but thanks to Manas, he never forgets to include Megha back in their merrymaking and also reminds Naina that her mother is part of the team.

After dinner, Manas switched on the TV to get some news updates. The news channels seemed to be flooded with updates on swearing in ceremony of 45th president of the United States, Mr Donald Trump. Manas switched from one news channel to the other in order to get better information. Different news channels discussed different aspects. For instance, if on one channel the panel discussed about the body language of the President and the First lady, then the other channel discussed about immigration issues and instability that would invariably get invited with the election results. The indian channels by and large engaged themselves in speculating the impact of the outcome of US presidential election on India.

Megha thought to herself, “Why, over the years Manas showed great interest in US presidential debates and now inauguration of Trump administration?”

“Why do you follow their elections so closely?” She asked aloud.

“Both India and the US are Democratic countries, besides they are the oldest functioning democracy, so I am just curious to know their way of dealing with things”, Manas explained.

But Megha on the other hand was trying to figure out the repercussions of the US presidential mandate in their life. If outsourcing policy of Republicans would affect their jobs or if hate crimes would increase in that region.

“Now that Trump is all set to become president, is that going to effect IT industry?” Megha inquired.

“Don’t know Megha, we have to wait and watch” Manas said.

“What about Debashish, Neha and Pradeep? Will they have to come back?” She enquired about her cousins who are already working there from a couple of years now.

“No, I don’t think so. They have work permits. The undocumented immigrants could face problems.” Manas replied.

His eyes were literally glued to the television set and he didn’t seem to be interested in talking at the moment. Therefore, Megha silently watched the news telecast. She wondered if such a radical thinking head of the state could add fuel to the otherwise latent right wing politics in that part of the world. While Mr Donald Trump was taking oath, Megha sat wondering to herself, “This man is representing a country which is known to assimilate people from varied cultures, from different continents and make them feel at home. Will he be able to keep the tradition, the essence of the country intact?”

Over the next one week they both were busy preparing for travel. Manas was busy preparing his ‘things to do and take’ lists, packing his bags, completing travel formalities at office. While she along with Naina had preparations at the emotional level. Manas was not traveling alone as one of his colleagues from Bangalore was to join him at New Delhi. And both of them would together take a flight to Chicago and thereafter a connecting flight to Olathe. This time, Megha was feeling a strange fear of uncertainty while seeing off Manas, something which she didn’t experience earlier. She repeatedly said, “Things are no longer the same there. Just stick to hotel to office and back to hotel schedule. No need to go anywhere”

Manas laughed and replied,“I’ll try to. But is that practically possible, Megha? You take care.”

“Keep me informed, have a safe journey!”, were the words that she said before bidding goodbye to her husband.

She could feel a lump in her throat. Her vision got blurry with tears as the cab drove out of the scene. She no longer had to put up a courageous face which was trying to portray from the past one week. While walking back home, she was trying to figure out when exactly they would be able to talk. After taking off from Delhi till the time Manas reaches his final destination there would be no communication what so ever.

For almost three weeks, both mother and daughter were going about their everyday life. One morning, after sending Naina to school, Megha sat with her morning tea in front of the television. While switching it on she thought to herself, “It is already 8:30 am and Manas didn’t call home yet. Anyways, just one more week to go and he should be back.” She chuckled quietly as she imagined Manas at the door with his luggage. While listening to the news, a breaking news suddenly caught her attention. She was horrified to read – Shootout at Kansas bar, an Indian techie killed. Her heart sank, a series of thoughts popped in her mind “Did I read it correctly? Maybe it’s Arkansas and not Kansas… Where in Kansas has this incident taken place?” She was trembling with fear, she fumbled here and there for the remote in order to change the channel. She was shell shocked to read the headline, “Racial attack at a bar at Olathe, Kansas. One dead and two injured.” She could feel her heart beating fast. She searched for her cell phone and tried to reach out to her husband. To her dismay, he didn’t answer the call. In desperation, she tried his number couple of times but in vain. Megha thought to herself, “Why is he not calling?”

Deep inside she knew, Manas being the kind of person that he is, in case he get to know about this incident he would immediately call or message home to inform that he is safe. She found it difficult to distance herself from negative thoughts. Her cluttered mind couldn’t give her directions. If she started searching for his colleague’s phone number from previously received messages in whatsapp, then the very next moment she started searching for more information on the net. She came back near the television set and was trying to figure out what she wanted to do next. That’s when the phone started ringing. It was Manas on the other side. Megha picked up the call without delay, squeaking out loud “Manas! Are you okay Manas?”

“Yeah, is Naina fine? Are you both okay? I saw so many missed calls, what’s the matter?”, Manas asked in a confused tone.

“No, we are fine but…” saying which Megha broke down. She was overpowered by a peculiar combination of emotions like love and longing for her husband; relief on finding him safe; fear of separation and disbelief for what happened just now, which made her to cry incessantly on hearing his voice.

“Megha, now you are making me scared. Why are you crying if everything is okay?” He questioned with a streak of impatience. In between sobs she asked, “Where were you Manas? I tried your number several times. I had really got scared for you… for all of us”

“I was in the washroom, so couldn’t hear the phone ringing. But tell me, what’s the matter?” perplexed, Manas replied.

“Do you know about a shoot out at a bar in Olathe?”, she asked.

“No…”, he replied. He sounded surprised.

Megha continued, “A racially motivated attack at a bar took place some time ago. A white American has mistaken two Indian techie for Arabs… and attacked them with a gun”. While she was speaking she could hear some sound at the other side of phone. Manas had switched on the television at his end.

Manas murmured, “Two injured and one…” There was silence at his end.

“Manas, the people from subcontinent look different from Arabs or middle easterners, why can’t the Americans differentiate an Arab from an Indian?” Megha enquired.

“But is it fair to be prejudiced against them in the first place? Not all Arabs are terrorists after all” Manas said and then continued, “Megha, one must understand this… innocent people irrespective of where they come from should not be targeted.”

“Manas, do you think all the senseless talks by Trump during his election campaign triggered some sort of white supremacy sentiment and as a result such acts of bigotry are taking place?” Megha asked.

“Could be possible. The fact is it takes ages to install positivity among people, to keep them glued together. But negativity and distrust are like wild fire, they spread in no time” Manas replied.

“ … and why are guns easily available there? Can’t the US bring amendment in their laws in order to check untoward incidents such as this?” She angrily added.

Manas interrupted, “This bar is around seven kilometers from where I am put up.”

Megha became speechless. The sheer thought of the proximity of the crime scene to the hotel sent a chill down her spine.

“Megha… are you there?”, He asked her after getting no reaction from her side.

“Hmm… tell me”, she said while still thinking deep.

“Every cloud has a silver lining”, Manas said sensing his wife in a disturbed state of mind.

“So, how do you install hope in a family which has lost the very purpose of living?”, Megha questioned.

“Megha, don’t underestimate the indomitable human spirit. They should be able to gather strength to cope with this unbearable pain and gradually find a purpose in life. Racial attacks of any kind should definitely be condemned but let’s not forget to uphold another American, who risked his life in order to help stop this incident”, Manas said.

“Yes, you are right. What is the time at your end?”, Megha enquired.

“It is almost 11 pm”, he said.

“You should have your dinner, we could talk later”, she said. And she continued, “You should be very careful”

“Yeah, I will. Bye.” he hung up the phone saying this.

Megha kept the phone on the coffee table. She went to the kitchen to fetch some water as she was thirsty. After she had quenched her thirst, she went and opened the window in her bedroom. The soft breeze touched her sweat drenched body soothing her senses that made her to close her eyes. She was getting flashbacks of happy moments that they have spent together. But her unstable mind took her to those dreadful moments, which made her to open her eyes. She thought to herself, “This was so close. Just a chance, who is present at the scene in that unfortunate moment. With guns rampantly available in the US and not so strong family bonds to anchor young minds, everyone is at risk.” she thought to herself.

Later in the day in between her work, she tried to gather more information related to this attack. That night, while Naina was fast asleep, Megha’s eyes were wide open. The images of Srinivas Kuchibhotla, the victim of Kansas shootout; his wife Sunayana and his friend, was floating in front of her eyes. She was thinking deeply about the life that these innocent souls have spend together or rather the life that they could have spend together. And how their togetherness has been cut short by a shameful and senseless act of an ignorant person. Megha had a lot of unanswered questions, which were troubling her.

She thought to herself, “Is color of a skin responsible for these mindless acts? Is race so big that nothing beyond that could be seen? If a man of European origin would have been sitting at that bar instead of an Asian, would this incident have taken place at all?”

These thoughts made Megha restless. She could no longer hold herself in the bed so she came in the living room and sat on the sofa. Her thoughts drifted back to the time when she first came across this phrase ‘The land of free and home of brave’. Many years ago when Megha was a kid, one of her cousins Pritha, a second generation American citizen, had sent a letter from the United States after vacationing in India for about one and half months. In that letter she had mentioned, “Glad to be back to the land of free and home of brave.” Being born and brought up there, she unquestionably owed her loyalty to the US. Megha thought to herself, “Would Pritha think the same way even now? What if someone questions her sense of belonging?” For the first time in her life Megha looked really concerned for the safety of her relatives settled there. As if something from within urged her to reach out to them. As if her blood was thrusting its way into an invisible stream, flowing to merge in the vast ocean of belonging that kinship provides even though she was not in touch with them of late. For a while, she looked for their profiles on different social media sites. Her uncles and aunts, mostly academicians, were the first generation settlers who were successfully lured by the United States from their place of origin by offering lucrative offers while they were still studying. The second and the third generation settlers, apart from the profession which the family traditionally opted for, diversified into varied fields. Megha came across a few videos of her niece Neera, an upcoming ballet dancer. Also couple of videos uploaded by her cousin Piyali, who happens to be a pianist. Megha took pride in watching Piyali playing piano alongside her French husband. Even though the husband and wife duo have performed and achieved prestigious awards the world over, but India can’t claim Piyali as her own. She thought to herself, “Is Piyali not bringing laurels to her country, the United States? What if one fine day she’s told by an insane person – ‘Go back to your country’? Piyali might think, ‘But this is my country!’ Ironically, being born and brought up as an American, except for her name and looks there is nothing Indian about her. Why then some whites are under an impression that they are more American than other races? When the fact is no one except for the ethnic red Indians have their roots in the American soil.” She wondered.

Due to various reasons, people from different parts of the world had hit the American shores. They not just built their lives there but also contributed their bit in building a great nation. Some of these dreamers have become American citizens and some are aspiring Americans. Why should they be attacked she failed to understand.

Suddenly, she thought about the time.  She got a jolt after looking at the clock. She told herself, “It is 2:30 in the morning, I should get some sleep”

Quietly, she went into her room and sneaked into the bed. Her eyes obeyed her immediately and closed it’s doors, but her disobedient mind wandered in the wilderness taking her to an array of thoughts. Childhood memories of an image of the colossal statue of liberty and the last lines of the famous sonnet by Emma Lazarus came to her mind.

“Give me your tired, your poor, huddled masses yearning to breathe free. The wretched refuse of your shore. Send these, the homeless, the tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Though this poem was written for a different reason and the statue of liberty had a different significance, but gradually they were perceived as a symbol of the American dream thousands of immigrants, irrespective of their races came hoping for.

Megha thought to herself, “Have the American leadership become off-track and forgotten the very ethos upon which the nation was built? Can’t we stop fragmenting this world on the basis of color? Why does a section of people assume that outsiders are taking away their jobs? When the fact is everyone is entitled to get equal opportunities there, it is upon an individual how he/she chooses to utilize it!”

Slowly Megha drifted into deep sleep. But these questions still remain unanswered. Someone needs to address these issues before the American dream turns into a nightmare.

– By Aradhana Basu Das

Other Side of the Fence

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While returning home after dropping her daughter Naina at guitar class, Megha noticed that the area near her society was developing at a fast pace. At a few places, shops have been demolished and the area has been converted into a supermarket. A couple of huge gated communities are also coming up. Her thoughts went back to a day, roughly an year back, when she and her husband Manas were driving through the same marketplace. They had just moved into the neighbourhood and she had looked pensive while looking at those sleepy and outdated grocery shops. Manas could quickly make out what was going on in her mind.

He immediately patted her shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, we’ll watch this area transform and develop too, as we have witnessed Mohanpur developing into a plush suburb.”

Hearing which, Megha had laughed out loud at his optimism. She understood that even though he loved living in outskirts, away from the hustle and bustle that a concrete jungle guarantees, he had said this to cheer her up and establish hope for a brighter future.

Now she thought to herself, “At that time, Manas was not wrong in speculating this…”

She hurriedly came back home as she had to draft a mail to be send to a client immediately. Megha is a freelance graphic designer working from home. After she had sent the mail, she made herself a cup of tea and went to the spot which has become her constant companion for sometime now – the window in her bedroom, with view of the green carpet of the golf course at a distance and a commanding view of the western horizon. While placing the cup on the coffee table which is placed near the window, Megha looked at the sky. The sun was setting down bit by bit into the dense canopy of gulmohar trees. The sun rays, hopping from one cotton like fluffy cloud to the other, creating mesmerising hues on the western sky. At a distance a temple could be seen on a small hill top. While taking a sip of hot tea, Megha made herself comfortable on the chair. The sound of wild and boundless wind made her to feel as if she was sitting near a seashore. She closed her eyes to feel the gushing wind on her face and her entire being was wrapped into its embrace.

Instantly her soul whispered, “What a spectacle. So beautiful, an absolute bliss… It is indeed a blessing to experience this moment.” 

Manas’s words came ringing in her ears, “Do we really need to go to a resort, our home is no less than a resort. Isn’t it?” He would say this each time Megha came up with the idea of spending a few days relaxing and rejuvenating in a resort. What she was realizing now, he had understood long before.

Megha was brought back to the present, with the beeping sound of the phone. She stretched her hand towards the bed side table to pick it up. It was a message from Manas, “Left for home”.

Megha got up from the chair and stood near the window. The cowshed which could also be seen from her window caught her attention. She could see busy farm workers; cows and buffaloes munching on fodder. In a corner, piled up cow dung could also be seen. All these months, while Megha admired the view of the distant golf course, the cowshed in the near view (which is destined to fade away in a few months of time as the land has been sold) dampened her spirits every time her eyes went there. Ironically, except for the cowshed all other attributes of the place were quite good but unfortunately Megha either didn’t notice or ignored them till this moment.

Megha looked back at her phone to check the time. It was already 6:45 pm.

“It’s time to pick up Naina from her class”, She thought.

That evening at the dinner table she was quietly having her food, with minimal exchange of words. Years of sharing their lives together made them capable enough to read each other’s silence too. Manas could make out that Megha was in deep thought.

“What’s the matter? What are you thinking so deeply?” he asked.

After a brief silence Megha spoke out, “Why do we complicate life?”

“Why? What happened?”, Manas asked in a confused tone.

“I don’t know… Why in life we always look at the greener pasture on the other side of the fence rather than concentrating on the positives that we have on our side?” Megha said thoughtfully.

Manas looked at her silently, without blinking his eyelids, expecting more to come.

“I was there at the window today evening watching the sunset… taking in the hues on the sky… it felt so good.”, Megha said.

After a pause Megha continued, “All these months I didn’t realize that we have been blessed to live in the lap of nature, but only complained about the cowshed. And that too when I knew from the beginning that it won’t stay for long”.

“ Yeah… if we want to lead a content life, we need to embrace it with all its flaws in the same manner in which we celebrate the perfections in life.” Manas said.

Manas continued to quote Nida Fazli’s famous lines, “Kabhi kisi ko mukammal jahan nahi milta, kahin zameen to kahin aasman nahi milta” (No one ever gets the entire universe, somewhere the earth and somewhere the sky is missing).

After around an hour, Megha entered the bedroom with two cups of milk. Manas stood near the same window watching the moonlit sky. Megha went to the same spot and passed on one of the cups and stood beside him. Silently they admired the serenity of the moment.

Manas broke the silence, “Human wants are unlimited, but we can’t get everything in life. We are granted what we need and not what we want”.

Megha smiled and added, “Yeah…  true. And we take so much time to realize this simple fact”.

Megha finished her cup and sat on the bed. She could feel soft breeze blowing. The full moon sometimes hiding behind the clouds, its light sneaking in through the window and falling on the bed. In that mystic moment, Megha slowly lay herself down on the bed, adjusting her head comfortably on the pillow and whispered, “Life is beautiful only if we seek to see its beauty. Instead of admiring the greener pasture on the other side of the fence, can’t we focus on the greenery on our side?”

– Aradhana Basu Das

Power of One – Conclusion

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A few days ago, I met Isha in the morning. While we were taking a walk together she asked me about the topic for my next article. While discussing about the topic she abruptly said, “At times I feel, maybe you could have written about journeys of some well-known personalities rather than about us. We are simple, very ordinary people. Writing about towering personalities would have fetched you better readership.” I said, “Maybe, I could have. But the idea was never to portray the journey of a famous person, but to gather inspiration from the struggles and successes of people around us.” The people whom the world considers ordinary or irrelevant, are the ones who manage to take some time out of their existing commitments to envision and conceptualize that which many of us fail to see. We fail to notice this, not because we don’t have capability to do so, but because our mental space is occupied with a lot of run of the mill things. In the pursuit of desired goal they withstand all odds with conviction, integrity, grit and focus. Even though I admire the famous personalities all over the world, but the people around me inspire me the most. As they are one among us, leading similar lives, it encourages me to think if they can do it why can’t I.

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Quite often, during the morning assembly, the principal of my school would tell us, “Children, you are the future of this country.” Back then I couldn’t fully understand what it is to be ‘the future of this country’. I thought one needs to be a force to be reckoned with as per the societal standards to become one. I never really understood the real meaning of the statement until I was bestowed upon with the responsibility of moulding a tiny, delicate and impressionable being. One who has the potential to gradually became an individual, able to find her ground in this world, while holding her beliefs, integrity and self respect closer to her heart. Isha’s green movement provided my daughter with ample exposure. As a result, we are able to witness a streak of sensitivity in her. She now collects seeds from vegetable peels to sow them in a mini kitchen garden that she maintains. She waters her plants and watches them grow. The realisation that even a rejected thing like a seed (whose fate could have taken it to the garbage bin), if provided with favourable conditions could flaunt their real potential and grow into a plant, is unbelievably beautiful. How fascinating are the ways of nature, as anything which has life or can possibly continue the chain of providing life, have been gifted with inherent potential to grow and blossom. All one needs is a suitable environment, rest the nature can manifest itself. This very experience left her delighted and thrilled to watch a seed germinating into a seedling and into a plant thereafter. On the other hand, the way Ratna advocated the need for correct disposal of wastes had led her to bring home her trash to be put into our recyclable bag instead of throwing away the garbage anywhere. Surprisingly, her world is no more confined between toys and play house. Instead she is growing into an opinionated individual, who prefers to decide her own topic for her painting, showcasing the need for tree plantation and waste management. I am immensely thankful to people like Isha, Anant and Ratna and many more unknown faces like them for being instrumental in transforming so many lives. Especially the young individuals who would comprise the future generations of the world. According to the traditional African proverb, “it takes a village to raise a child”. I realized that no matter how much we try as parents, but without these responsible adults around, without these exposures, it would be a bit difficult to give shape to our children’s character.

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William Shakespeare famously wrote: “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any name would smell as sweet”. While writing I choose not to use real names of people as I believe a name doesn’t define who we are, but the actions that we take and virtues that we possess does. In fact, even if one remembers the name generations after the event, the name of the person becomes less significant. Instead, the actions that were taken hold greater importance as it is the actions that define our future. Over the years, our genes have got structured in such a way that when our sense of existence is pushed to the brink, our survival instincts compels us to rise to the occasion and challenge the situation with all our might. The idea of survival, the threshold of tolerance, aspirations, purpose in life, sense of contentment varies with different individuals. While Isha, Ratna, Anant and many more like them choose to do something for public welfare, there could be others who feel more accomplished by attaining their personal goals. Our soul shows us the way where it wants to reach, we just need to listen to our inner voice and embark on a journey for self fulfillment. The power to excel is so deep-seated within each one of us that if it is nurtured with sincerity and hard work, it could take us a long way in transforming our lives, societies, nations and the world.

Not only these inspiring personalities, we all have a flame burning within us. We just need to inculcate willingness to walk that extra mile to accomplish what we want to achieve. This willingness act is like a fuel to the burning flame. In a way, we are all like those tiny glow worms having potential to become luminous and spread brightness wherever we go. One glow worm may not be able to lighten-up the whole area, but at least it can show a ray of hope amid despair and gloom. Furthermore, if a few glow worms forms a cluster, together they can definitely illuminate the whole area. When in doubt about the strength within, let’s remind ourselves “Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle”. This is the power of one.

– Aradhana Basu Das

Power of One – The Tenacious Yogi

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Nowadays every other person that we meet is racing against time, stretching and redefining their limits, scaling greater heights trying to reach the zenith in every possible sphere. But the irony is, no matter how blissful these moments may look from a distance they all turn out to be an illusive mirage. Even after reaching the desired position, a constant feeling of void pricks the heart. Fortunate are those who are able to take some time out to ponder about the reason behind this. In most cases, our brain compels us to compete with our peers in achieving the superficial status which is hailed by the society. But deep within, our heart craves for only inner peace and contentment. Sadly, the lifestyle that we adopt in the process of acquiring luxuries of material world takes a toll on our body as well as soul. As is the case with all organic matter, the body embarks on a journey down the hill from the very moment we are born. Even though at the sub conscious level we humans are aware of this, but the conscious mind prefers to remain oblivious to this reality. As a result our self worth thrives on momentary pleasure that one gets in achieving unending milestones in life. Can we afford to play havoc like this with ourselves? In this maddening world we all need some time, just for ourselves so that we are able to bring synergy in our system which is the combination of body and soul. As it is the soul that is what we are which resides in this temporary home called body. Therefore, it is equally important to take care of our spiritual health apart from our physical health, in order to lead a life in harmony.

Last summer, when I decided to contribute in green movement, my husband Anirban thought I wouldn’t last with the movement for long. That was because we were expected to reach the garden by 6 am and I have never been an early bird. But on the contrary he found me challenging my shortcoming with undeterred belief for the cause, which in turn made him to accompany me to the garden. During the time that we spent at the garden, we were encouraged by Mr Sinha to join Anant’s yoga sessions which starts at 5.30 am at the club house. It’s been years since Anant, a resident of the same society where we live, has been conducting yoga sessions free of cost, almost every day. I was surprised to know that even though he does not make a living out of teaching yoga, but despite his professional and personal commitments he has been able to dedicate one hour every day to impart the knowledge which he had acquired and help people out, out of sheer goodwill. As it had been more than twenty days since I was waking up early, somehow I had started to feel confident to spread my wings even further. Thus, I had started contemplating waking up by dawn in order to go for yoga class and the garden there-after. I have experienced the benefits of yoga over my mind and body as I have practiced it before. Therefore, I persuaded my husband to come along as I knew that his chronic allergic conditions could be taken care of by breathing exercises. Finally, with a bit of cajoling he agreed to give it a shot.

On the first day we got up around 4.45 am, after we were ready we left our kid at my parent’s place who lives nearby and hurried towards the club house. As Mr Sinha was unwell he had skipped the class that day. While climbing up the stairs I was thinking that we might get to see a room packed with people. But to my surprise there was none except for Anant that day. He asked us to take our places and the session started with chanting of vedic mantras, followed by different yogic poses, breathing exercises and again concluded with chanting of mantras. Before doing every asana, Anant made sure to brief us about the benefits of that asana. Proper functioning of different organs, increased metabolism, detoxification of the body and above all enhanced mental well-being were some of the benefits he wanted people to experience. It was a different experience for me altogether, amidsts the chants that were echoing in the room, the gusting wind, the sound of birds chirping on trees nearby, the sun sneaking into a grey sky, smittening the eastern horizon with enchanting hues. The serenity in that spectacular moment seemed so surreal. With that sun rise began a new life transforming chapter in our life. We embarked on a journey that promised holistic well-being of the body, soul and spirit.

Initially while we were doing yoga, I realised that over the years our body had lost the flexibility that we had as kids. But Anant and a few others who did yoga regularly were able to move and stretch their body more freely. We were told that with time we could reach their level. Interestingly his yoga sessions looked a bit unconventional to me as it did not fit into the usual notion of a yoga class (I thought yoga is done in silence) as Anant would talk constantly, telling stories to inspire us throughout the session. There were times when I would stop doing yoga and listen to his story and he would say, “don’t stop, you continue. I am telling these stories so that you should not feel monotonous.” One of the stories that I remember vividly is that of an elderly man who was visiting his son. He had lot of ailments and someone had to literally give support while he walked. But after he started doing yoga he can now walk without support. He is continuing practicing yoga every day, wherever he is. And when he visits his son here, he makes sure that he comes to the clubhouse to Anant’s class.

In the next couple of days we found different faces testing the waters in the yoga class. On one day if we had a couple for a company, then the next day we had a reluctant obese teenager apparently pushed by his parents to the class and then a corporate honcho probably in his mid forties, after going through the grinds of erratic lifestyle finally settling down with yoga to bring balance into his life. Next few days a group of zealous men also came for the class and discussed ways of promoting yoga in a big way within the society. But honestly I didn’t see a lot of people coming consistently for the class. Probably only those people continue with the class who either had gained substantially in terms of better health or those who could keep pace with Anant’s indestructible grit, discipline and focus.

I was absolutely amazed by Anant’s commitment towards the cause that he had taken up. He must have tasted success in transforming people’s life but I am sure he must have also experienced disappointments too. But here was a man who did not face dearth of self motivation. Apart from keeping his own morale high, he tried lifting our spirits too by telling us stories of people who have been benefited from yoga. Getting up so early in the morning was the most difficult part, therefore the footfalls were less. But such was his desire to spread awareness for yoga that he would go out of the way to help and hold on to people. For instance, I remember once it had rained heavily the whole night. In the morning we woke up to find it was drizzling outside, we were feeling lazy to leave the comforts of our home and get drenched in the process of venturing out. Therefore, we stopped the alarm clock and went back to sleep. At that time, my husband received a call from Anant. He told us not to skip the class as he was also coming. I wondered who would show such a gesture in today’s time. Another incident which I remember was that when I was suffering from cold for a few days, he told us to buy some Ayurvedic medicine which would give relief within a day. We didn’t take that advice seriously and as a result I was unwell for a few days. Once we resumed our classes he said that the breathing exercise could have helped in that condition. Furthermore after the class, he took Anirban to his home to hand over the medicines. When the world around you crumbles into fragments containing self centered individuals, selflessness and service for the society is a far cry. I was pleasantly surprised to know that even now such people exists in this world who can leave their ego behind and reach out to help others. We gained a lot from Anant’s yoga class. Even though we have stopped going there now, but for my husband there was no looking back. Almost every day he practices yoga at home.

I distinctly remember my first introduction to Rabindra Nath Tagore’s revolutionary poem… “Jodi tor dak shune keu na ashe tobe ekla cholo re”. Which means “if no one responds to your call, then walk alone in your chosen path”. As a kid, I would often think how long can you walk alone if nobody is coming along. But now I see an example in front of me, who is continuing with his journey towards his goal alone for more than 10 years and is still going strong. His conviction over-shadows the roadblocks that comes in his path and there is nothing that can dampen his spirits. One could become spellbound to see him venturing out for the class, in spite of foul weather, sometimes with a headache, sometimes in spite of sleep deprivation due to working late at night. The dedication, tenacity and determination that he exhibits is something which we all can look upto. It is commendable how for years Anant was able to keep the fire within him ignited, defeating negative emotions like self doubt and monotony. I suppose one needs a strange kind of madness or passion to drive the self towards the goal. The same passion I saw in his eyes, which asks him to focus only on his dream of good health for all, without bothering much about anything else. Each one of us have the same fire within us, which needs to be ignited to reach where our heart strives to reach. If we falter in the path towards our desired goal each one of us should remind ourselves “Jodi tor dak shune keu na ashe tobe ekla cholo re”.

– Aradhana Basu Das

Power of One – Waste Management Crusader

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Many moons ago on a lazy summer afternoon, while spending time on the verandah of my childhood home, I saw an elderly lady roaming in the by lanes of our sleepy neighbourhood. I vividly remember that incident even though it’s been years since then. She was holding a sack with one hand near her shoulder while balancing it comfortably on her back. The piece of cloth which was wrapped around her fragile frame looked dirty and torn from several places. She walked barefoot, while her eyes fixed on the ground as if in search of something precious. While observing her I noticed that she was picking plastic bags, packets and other trash from every possible nook and corner. My curiosity multiplied several folds as I failed to understand her reason or need to collect those items from filth. Therefore, a volley of questions forced open the floodgate of my innocent mind.

”Is she alone, with no one to take care in her twilight years?”

”How could she walk barefoot on the streets? Is the ground not hot enough?”

“Is she not feeling dirty to touch the garbage?”

I called her once she was done with collecting trash from that area and asked her why was she doing this and that too at her age. She said she had none who could take care of her and she does this for a living. As I was moved by her plight I asked my mother if we could do something for her. My mother said maybe we could collect recyclable plastics and hand it over to her when she comes. I felt good as I thought in this manner we could do our bit to help the poor lady. Initially I exhibited great enthusiasm in collecting milk packets, plastic bags and other plastic recyclables for the old lady, but the zeal gradually dipped down and therefore after sometime it became my mother’s sole responsibility to collect the trash. But I always made sure to personally hand those over to the lady. This ritual continued for a couple of years until she stopped coming. Back then I had no idea what waste management was all about. I just tried to help her out of empathy. Surprisingly, after so many years while I retrospect, I am unable to recollect studying about waste management or for that matter plastic pollution at the school. It was only while pursuing my higher studies that I got a chance to learn about hazardous nature of different types of wastes and their management. Even though I was not ignorant about the issue by then, but still I didn’t have the knowledge of what exactly needs to be done at an individual level. In our country, issues like household waste management don’t enjoy the same status as issues like pollution or deforestation, may be due to lack of awareness. It is due to this lack of awareness we are not able to comprehend a larger picture.

Last year, when the schools reopened after summer vacation, gradually the euphoria surrounding green movement mellowed out but a handful of people still continued their tryst with the garden. During those days I realised, giving shape to the garden was difficult no doubt. But maintaining it was all the more difficult as weeding continuously was quite taxing. All this time while contributing assiduously to the cause of green movement, Ratna – one of the active volunteers, had researched about the issue which is closer to her heart… Waste Management. During those weeding sessions at the garden, she discussed about it extensively and she had plans of taking that up with the society’s maintenance committee. This is an issue which has created waves in western countries, but if we say in our part of the world it has started creating ripples that would be an over statement. But still I thought it to be another great cause that was creeping into our life having a potential to mobilise the society and turn it into a great movement. Amid talks with the maintenance committee at different levels, she brought home a stack composter/khamba for her wet kitchen wastes and started collecting other recyclables; especially plastics as they take thousands of years to degrade, thus creating a menace to our environment. As per the information she gathered, it seems first of all waste needs to be segregated into kitchen and dry wastes. Secondly, almost everything under the sun could be recycled thus increasing sustainability. From a piece of paper, to shampoo bottle, to masala packet etc everything could be recycled. Interestingly, if our wastes are managed efficiently, a lot of energy could be saved. Kitchen wastes when decompose in landfills generates methane, a greenhouse gas which is 21 times more harmful than carbon dioxide (another greenhouse gas). Thus, by composting her kitchen wastes at home she intended to minimise methane gas generation. And also by collecting solid wastes and sending them to recycling plants, she was able to do her bit to reduce carbon footprint.

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I am sure she must have been the only one from our society to start composting kitchen wastes and that too showing dedication in collecting recyclables to the extent of rinsing plastic pouches (from food takeaways) and keeping them aside. In spite of this, my prior experience with the green movement (as by this time I had understood what power within one person can do) did not allow me to doubt her potential to bring about change. Even a small step taken by an individual is important as it could bring about a significant change in the mindset of the society. As by seeing one individual taking the unusual path, many like minded people could get inspired to walk the same path. She had already taken the first step, thus paving way for others. According to the great Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu: ”A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step”.

As Ganesh Chaturthi was round the corner and lot of residents were expected to participate in the celebration, Ratna thought of promoting waste management awareness by staging a skit with the help of resident children. For days children rehearsed at Ratna’s home. She along with a few others suggested the Ganesha committee to go for eco-friendly idol instead of plaster of paris idol as the latter produces a menace to water bodies after they get immersed. Meanwhile she had prepared and laminated a few pictorial charts related to the segregation of wastes, so as to circulate the pictures in various whatsapp groups within the society. On her request, the committee agreed to put a stack composter/khamba near the Ganesh pandal so as to make manure by composting flowers which were offered to Ganesha. And later the manure could be spread in our gardens. She volunteered to bring the composters. As we too wanted to bring home a composter, we accompanied her in order to bring the composters together. As per one’s family size one can choose the size of the composter, but we went for a big one. One set of stack composter comprises of three terracotta vessels. Which should be placed one above the other.

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We were coming home with two sets, so there were six vessels in all to load in the car. A couple of them were placed in the dicky and rest others had to be adjusted on the rear seat of the car. I vividly remember our journey back home. The earthen vessels took the side seats near the windows while Ratna sat in the middle of the rear seat, right on the edge with her son on her lap. I quickly clicked couple of pictures, and she sportingly obliged me with a smile. I don’t have an idea how she managed to sit like that for so long. While coming back home, I wondered if they were feeling claustrophobic, being packed from all around with no space to breath. We asked them repeatedly, if they were alright, and to my surprise, the smile on Ratna’s lips was able to belie the discomfort she was in. I was awed by her humbleness. After some time I sat silently as we drove back home… watching the branches of the trees crossing by, the clouds wandering in the sky, while watching them… slowly my thoughts too drifted to a situation which involved Ratna and her sons. During the green movement days by any chance if her kids missed out the morning session at the garden, she made sure that they made up for it later in the day. Very quietly, three of them tilled the soil, weeding a patch of land under the scorching sun. They just went about with their duty without being noticed by most of us. Honestly, it would be incorrect if I say I didn’t take a leaf out of her book in parenting. I wonder if these virtues of discipline, dutifulness, punctuality and humility were due to her upbringing or due to her association with armed forces. The age in which we live, we are habituated to see the world around us preoccupied with the notion of self projections. If one meets a person who is not shouting from the rooftop and going about the task in a low profile manner, this certainly comes as a sweet surprise.

The skit on waste management was conducted on eighth day of Ganesh Chaturthi. While Ratna anchored the act, the children nailed it in conveying a strong message regarding eco-friendly idols, and the need for waste management, landfill menace, plastic pollution and health hazards due to plastics through their short but informative act. After the skit, Ratna took to the center stage and delivered a thought provoking speech.

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“Ladies and gentlemen hope you enjoyed the skit. Could we please have a round of applause for this splendid performance.” The atmosphere got filled with loud clapping and cheering. After a pause, Ratna resumed again. “I think the kids were able to create an awareness about the hazardous nature of plastics and the need for recycling them. So I need not go deep into that but all I would like to tell is that please keep this in mind – Earth is the only planet which is presently habitable for human race and other living beings. Colonising somewhere in outer space still seems like a distant dream. And even if that becomes a possibility, is there a guarantee that our children’s future family members would be able to make it to a safe place? So for most of our children and their future families this planet is the only place where they can live. It would be quite unfortunate if our future generations have to face the consequences of our irresponsible behavior. Obviously, we don’t want them to suffer due to our ignorance and recklessness. Besides we could save our resources by adopting sustainability principle, i.e., by reducing, reusing and recycling our wastes. So dear residents, please start segregating your wet/ kitchen wastes and dry wastes. This is the first and the most important step. If it is feasible for you, you could use a composter at home just as I am doing. I had a word with one of the organizations which collects trash and send those to various recycling units. Every alternate Sundays, they are expected to send their representative to our society. We can give away the recyclables, especially plastics to them. Let us all join hands in the mission to hand over a better earth to our future generations. I request you to spread this information to others in the society. So two weeks from now we will all meet near the central park with our trash. Thank you.”

Ratna left the stage amid roars and cheers. As we were getting late for dinner, holding my little one’s hand I quickly left for home. Somehow, Ratna’s words were hovering in my mind, striking me where it hurts or matters the most… my child, her future family. I pledged to do whatever I could, even if that meant walking an extra mile, so as to leave my child comparatively a safer and healthier place to live in. After that Ratna did not sit quietly. Instead, she mediated a few meetings between the residents and the organization which was suppose to collect our recyclables. Apart from this, she along with a few others campaigned and conducted meetings with the women folks at their residence, so as to spread awareness for the cause. Besides, she repeatedly showed her stack composter/khamba to the interested residents at her home and discussed and demonstrated how to do composting so as to spread maximum awareness.

After two weeks the recycling guys came at the appointed time, to collect our trash. While walking with the recyclables towards the central park, a strange nostalgia overpowered me. After so many years I could feel the same enthusiasm and a sense of accomplishment that I felt during my childhood days, while handing over plastic bags to the old lady. While glancing at the bags I realized that over the years our plastic usage had increased manifolds. I could see so many packets in the sack which were used to pack different items. The packaging of food items have changed over the years. When we were kids, the local grocer would use old papers and jute strings to pack things. I remember my mother and grandmother stitching cloth bags out of old and used clothes, to be carried by my father and grandfather to the market. Those days we did not have online grocery stores sending us vegetables in separate plastic bags. Instead, vegetables of all kinds would come in a single cloth bag to be segregated and kept in the refrigerator later. Years ago, neither the spices came in plastic packets nor juices came in tetra packs. I remember the grocer used to pack pulses and other items in paper pouches which were handmade out of used papers. But slowly, the polythene bags replaced the paper pouches. Interestingly, our previous generation reused every ounce of resources that were available instead of throwing away things instantly. And recyclables were kept aside to be given to the scrap collector. Ironically, the world has come up with the concept of sustainability or waste hierarchy, i.e., reduce, reuse and recycle. But our progenitors without knowing much about the three ‘R’ had adopted a lifestyle which implemented the same.

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Once I reached the stall, I figured out that around only 20 odd families had come down to give away their trash so far. Strangely, after all the effort that Ratna had put in, the turnover was very low. May be their mind was still bogged down in the narrow by lanes of present. Thus, they couldn’t fathom an obvious catastrophe in future. As a result, they thought this activity of segregating and bring wastes to the recycling van to be an unnecessary affair. But Ratna, as much as I could study her, is certainly not one of those who would give up easily. The biggest challenge that posed in front of her was to convince people to segregate their kitchen wastes from the dry wastes and come down to the recycling stall. For the next couple of months, she came up with one innovative idea after another to lure as many people as possible into this. Every time, she would surprise me with her courage to proceed alone with minimal support. She brimmed with resolve and optimism which helped her to bounce back with one innovative idea after another. She excelled in understanding the situation and was able to read the resident’s mind and accordingly chalk out her next plan of action. For instance, she understood that if children were made the target audience, they could be moulded easily as their young impressionable minds would be more receptive. After all, it was their future that we were talking about. In Spite of her busy schedule, she managed to take out time to plan and make arrangements for for events that she wanted to conduct. Of course, a few people helped her. But honestly, their support was just like a few drops of water in the ocean. But I never found her complaining. Instead, she acknowledged whatever help she received and moved on. On some days, she would arrange for an open air film show for the kids. The film depicting the ill effects of plastic in our lives, water bodies aquatic life etc. Then post film session, she would again tell the children what to collect for recycling and also asked the children to inform their parents about the same. There were occasions when she would conduct painting competition having waste management as a topic or conducted cleanliness drives on weekends for interested grown ups and children. Which was then followed by breakfast for the children, sponsored by the green movement fund.

To me, involving children in this mission proved to be master stroke for her as the children were able to understand the need to dispose plastic in a better manner and inculcate the habit of sending them to the right place. I have heard about instances where children acted like her, holding a pen in a similar way as she would hold a microphone while talking, talking like her while playing pretend games. She became an inspiration, a role model for many children in the society. A few children without feeling awkward, at the drop of a hat, would pick up plastics from common areas and throw them in trash cans. Interestingly they were the same people who had a habit of throwing chocolate wrapper on the floor, at their home. Ratna was able to influence and mould them positively. Hopefully, these children would be able to resist feeling awkward or inhibited in doing the same thing when they grow up.

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The numbers definitely increased after all the efforts that Ratna had put in. But it was still a long way to go. The state government in the meantime had started taking segregation of wastes more seriously. As a result, we were given instructions to strictly adhere to segregation and disposals of wet and dry wastes. Actually, it becomes practically difficult for the garbage pickers to manually separate these wastes if given together. It is such a shame for us as a society if we are insensitive to the plight of the garbage pickers. Moreover, we don’t even realize that we are sitting on a time bomb which would explode anytime. Already scientists are confirming that we are heading into a mass extinction comparable to the ones which made Dinosaurs extinct. The difference this time is – this event is man made. Meanwhile Ratna had met the municipal commissioner at his office to ensure the authenticity of the claim of correct waste disposal/ management by the government. On her request, the commissioner had send the medical officer to engage in informative discussions with us about the health hazards and other issues. After all these efforts that she had taken, now we need not come up to the recycling van. Instead, we could give away the segregated wastes at our own door steps as the garbage collector would bring separate baskets for our wet and dry wastes.

In these few months, she was able to accomplish substantially. Ratna has no intention to sit on her laurels. Instead, her trials and tribulations with the cause still continues. Her contributions are priceless. Even though she struggled to hold her ground, she never gave up. She took up an issue which did not have much takers but still fought hard to uphold it. She never waited for a whole lot of people to support her (even though she would have loved it that way), but she did not hesitate to embark on a journey less preferred; with her conviction and strength of character to give her company. In other words, her initiative was able to create ripples locally, and maybe someday these ripples would become bigger waves thrusting their way to virgin shores. Many of us would say that Ratna is an exception. But honestly, each one of us have the same inner strength and indomitable spirit which could help us to rise to the occasion and achieve what the soul strives for. We just have to tell ourselves “to arise, awake and stop not till we reach our goal”.

– Aradhana Basu Das