Thursday 12 September 2024

My Wanderings 109. Short Story No. 61. His Estranged Mother

               It was cold  January of Nineteen ninety eight  when I was transfered to Srinagar on promotion from Pathankot.  There were my  several other batch mates from Jammu and other parts of India who were alloted accommodation in our Banks guest house near Badami Bagh area alogwith myself. The rooms of guest house were shared by two persons each  and I also had to Share my room with another batch mate from Jammu, who appeared to me  very sober and  gentle person.

          After a day or two  because of rush created at the guest house due  to arrival of  our batch, another colleague of ours  was asked to share our room , who most reluctantly joined us as he was not happy to share the room already occupied by two persons. He was in no humour to have chat with us either,  because he appeared  very  angry ,  as he had  a hot  argument with guest house manager over  sharing  of the  room. We did  not also like   his presence much  in our  room as we took it as an intrusion in our privacy and  it could   make  our room crowdy. But we were helpless to stop the entry of third person in our room. Later on he compromised with the situation  and slept like a log till  late while snoring throughout  the night. 
In the morning after breakfast we all shifted to our  workplaces with out much ado.  

                            After a  few days he started conversation with us . His name was Jugal Dhar  and he was also from Jammu. He was  very handsome person  having   fair complexion with a tuft of brown hair  on his head and with blue eyes. He appeared very intelligent and daring. He was very much concious of his rights and would fight with any  person who tried to  compromise with them. It was not only his own rights , he would fight for others also if he found somebody in distress.

                He mostly used to talk about his father,  who had passed away before his birth . He once said, " My relatives tell me that my father was just like an English man , very tall and fair with golden hair." Whenever asked about her mother ,he would cut the sentence short by saying, "she also died after my birth and I was brought up by my uncles in a joint family". Sometimes , he would narrate the harrowing  tales of his torture by his uncles, aunts and cousins right from his childhood . They appeared to us like horror tales. One of the tales which I still remember is that once he was going to appear for exam. through snow laden paths wearing the shoe of his cousin and when the  later  came to know about this, he chased and forced  him to take off his shoes. Jugal had to reach exam centre bare footed. There were so many horrowing  tales of his torture which he had to undergo during his childhood. But being  intelligent and fast in accademics he completed his education and got a good job . Thereafter , he  started living independently . Later on he married a girl from  an affualent family after falling in love with her. After his marriage the horrowing experiences of his life came to an end. He loved his  wife and children so much.

            Once he told us that he was having some heart ailment for which he had an  operation recently and now he was alright but he was taking  some high antibiotic injections  weekly at near by hospital . Sometimes I also accompanied him to hospital as it was advised to him by his  doctor that he should not go alone to the hospital for taking injections. One day he said to me, " I am very much scared about my health problem. It is not for me that I worry but it is for my children , who are in their teens yet. I consoled him by saying that nothing will happen to him and  he will live a very healthy life but he said nothing in response and looked at me with a fake  smile. 

                        In the meantime one of our colleagues was transfered and Jugal was alloted new room to share the same with another person.  But the bonds of friendship developed with him for the last few months continued. 

                         Later on somebody told us  that the mother of Jugal was very much  alive and not dead as stated by him. Actually after death of her husband and  birth of Jugal , she had remarried and left her toddler son with his uncles at parental house. She never cared to know about Jugal till migration of our community to Jammu. It was after the death of her second husband her step sons,  whom she brought up with love and care, deserted her at jammu as they themselves were living in  small one room hutment because of scarcity of rented houses at jammu those days 
Jugal had already constructed a house at Jammu for his family as he had shifted to jammu much earlier. His biological mother came to know about the whereabouts of Jugal and one day knocked at  his door. When Jugal opened the  door of his house , she disclosed her identity to him. Jugal was shocked to see her all in blood and flesh.
She said to Jugal,"  it is an old saying -whether ilegitimate or legitimate one should have her own child  and you are my legitimate and biological son. I  want to  stay with you in this old age. 
But Jugal refused her offer and shut the  door of his house.  When Jugal entered his room , he fainted and recovered from the shock after a long time. Then Jugal noticed her several times on the road side waiting for him ,whenever  he was leaving for office. But Jugal never entertained her. 

          Now reverting to Story  it was month of December of the same year ,  the Jugal came to Srinagar after a long leave to join his duty.  He was alone in his room and I was also alone in my room. He requested me to join him in his room. I promptly accepted his request .  He offered me a drink or two. We both enjoyed the evening in his room listening to ghazals  of Jagjit singh as he was a music lover. Next day when I came from office , somebody knocked the door of my room.

              As I opened the door,  it was a waiter who told me that my  friend Jugal is sinking in his room . I hurried towards the room of Jugal and noticed that some of our colleagues had already arrived . I touched the face of Jugal and then his pulse . His face had turned blue in colour and I could not find his pulse . In the meantime ambulance was called  and we took the Jugal to hospital, where he was declared brought dead . Next day body of Jugal was brought to Jammu and handed over to his family for cremation.

                  In cremation ground people  noticed an old woman wailing and weeping a little far off. Perhaps she was his estranged  Mother. After this scene no body ever noticed her.








No comments:

Post a Comment