My Wanderings - 51. Short Story No. 33. Benefit of Doubt

              My father while serving as a country Doctor had various experiences in remote areas of Kashmir  and that too a very  long ago when specialisation in the field was unknown in city  Hospitals also. Doctor with whatever little knowledge had to be ready to deal with any exigency which ever may  arise  in the area. Those days pathological and diagnostic tests were not available and even if available in a rudimentary   form and  were sparsely in vouge  even in city Hospitals . The disease had to be diagnosed on  its symptoms only . The Doctor had to rack his brains and use his intelligence in order to track the disease . This  exercise however used to sharpen  the  faculties of Doctor towards  better diagnosis. The only silver lining  in this  occupation was that it was purely professional and was not commercial  like these days. The Doctor would get satisfaction from his profession by correct diagnosis and treatment of the patient rather than deriving pecuniary benefits out of it. Moreover, Doctor had to be all-rounder those days. He had to be a physician, surgeon, Gynocologist, child specialist and bone specialist all in one as he had to deal any type of patient any time.  
Once  a gujjar woman bleeding profusely from  her head    was brought in to  the Hospital by few persons.  When my father with the help of his attendant looked into the wound, the case appeared prima facie  hopeless​. The sclap and skull bone  were broken into  two pieces and brain was protruding out of it . The two hair plaits of woman had spread apart making a way for  internal mass  . It  later on transpired that woman in  question had gone for collecting fuel wood from Jungle and some male  gujjar had caught hold of her to satisfy his biological need.  The woman had managed to frisk away from his grip  and ran away. But the  Gujjar had chased her frantically and in a fit of rage hurled  his axe on her sclap and left her wounded and bleeding.  Then few good persons after hearing  her frantic calls had brought her to hospital.
My father  and whatever little staff available with him  had no other option but to attend the exigency. They simply tried to stuff the portion of  brain  hanging outside back into her head after cutting some mass of flesh. Then they manually arranged to join the two pieces of   her skull bone, which were spread apart. After few stitches on his sclap she was discharged as there was no indoor facility available  in the Hospital. After few days she recovered to the surprise of one and all. Mostly villagers bitten by bears or leapords in the jungle  were usual cases attended by my  father in the Hospital. Whole of the village would assemble outside the Hospital gates , whenever there was such type of operation going on inside.
After  duty  hours  at the Hospital , my father would attend patients who were bed ridden in far flung areas on horseback or Tonga as per schedule. This was also a part of the duty of my father as no other Doctor was available in the whole area. My father never charged anyone for extra services provided by him as the patients were mostly poor peasants living around. The medicine was also available to them free of cost from Govt. Hospital.
One day my father received a call  to attend an emergency case  in another village about 5 Kms away from the village where Hospital was located.     In the mean time a person was stabbed by another  in  the abdomen and victim was brought to Hospital for treatment. As my father had already left for another village, assistant present in the Hospital attended to  the patient and after stitching his wound discharged him. But patient died in the way  while going to his  home.
Then after apprehending the culprit by police a murder  case was lodged against him in the District court. After many hearings which were attended by my father and his colleagues also, the judge gave decision in favour of culprit by giving  benefit of doubt to him. The Judge opined that victim was treated  at the Hospital by an attendant only as House Doctor was absent from duty. Had the victim  been attended by a qualified Doctor, he might  have survived and therefore culprit can not be punished for murder charges. The culprit was  however, charged for attempt to murder only, which subsequently lessened the punishment of culprit substantially. Moreover, Doctor was held  responsible for  neglect of duty  despite of his pleadings that he was liable to attend the patients of surrounding area also. Taking cognizance  of the circumstances  on account of  exigency  of service which kept my father out of Hospital  at the material time and viewing the case leniently, increment of my father was stopped for two  years only.

My Wanderings - 50 Short Story No. 32. Brothers Karihaloo

The present story revolves  round  my memory lane reflecting  back the early years of Nineteen sixty , when I was a little child and my father was transferred to small hemlet of Khrew , nineteen Kms away  from Srinagar city as In- charge of allopathic dispensary. Actually my father was the first incumbent of Allopathic Dispensary which was earlier an  Ayurvedic one. It was a beautiful village of springs and brooks spread all over the area. The small brooks flowed in the compounds and even through the ground  floors of inhabitants. The water of springs  was relatively warm in winter season as  white cloud like  vapours hovering over the streams were most conspicuous  in cold climate . The nature had bestowed the village with all natural resources which were sufficient to live a  luxurious life for all living beings around  but man's greed had devised ways  to divide it unequally so as to marginalise few.                   The Dispensary was located in a nice two storey building , the upper storey of which was Doctors residence ,where we lived. Adjacent  to Dispensary  compound there was a big chunk of land in the shape of farm  along with a  three storey house constructed beyond the other end of it belonging to one sh. Prakash Ram Karihaloo and on its opposite   periphery, which was just besides  hospital building, there was a kucha one room hutment surrounded by a small piece of land just enough for kitchen garden. The inhabitant of the hutment was Raghav Ram Karihaloo who was  younger brother  of  Prakash Ram. Although both the brothers were having  amazing   similarity in their physical  appearances but were  miraculously apart as per their temperanment was concerned. Prakash Ram was  introvert type of person and appeared to be most cunning while as Raghav Ram was extrovert and an honest person. Both the brothers were at daggers  drawn , living in their seperate houses and no body had seen them talking or meeting ever. Prakash Ram had married once but his wife  died much earlier with out delivering a baby while as Raghav Ram was a chronic bachelor. After the death of their parents Prakash Ram had taken no pains to marry or settle his younger sibling .                                                                       Actually they had some dispute over the ancestral land, major chunk of  which Prakash Ram had usurped while Raghav Ram was young boy and had confined the later to a  small portion of it on the periphery. The land case was lying pending in the High court at  Srinagar which would come up for hearing after a lapse of six months or a year and was always  postponed for next dates.
Prakash Ram was like a selfish giant and never allowed anyone  to trespass his fortress. He would watch from the window of  top floor  of his house and  shriek like a wild cat whenever children tried to enter his orchard for fun. He would become mad and hurl all the lofty abuses on the children who even by chance happen to cross over  his orchard. Once I entered his garden for plucking  flowers. He sprang like a leopard from somewhere , caught hold of  me and started beating me voilently.    Luckily my father came out from Dispensary and gave him a bit of mind.
Raghav Ram on the other hand was a very social person. He used to visit us occasionally for a courtesy call. He played with us sometimes and used to take care of all the children living near by.
Once during our stay Prakash Ram fell seriously ill. There was no body to look after him. My father was the only Doctor available  in the whole area. Therefore, he attended him and even advised  his younger Brother Raghav Ram to look after him. Raghav Ram most meticulously followed the instructions of my father and helped his brother in the time of distress. Prakash Ram was pleased to see his brother Raghav Ram serving him day and night.  One day he confided to Raghav Ram  that he wanted to  leave  all this hatred and dispute and live a peaceful life henceforth , to which his younger brother most readily agreed. They even agreed to compromise mutually and abandon court case .
But only after Prakash Ram regained his health fully, he began to show his true colours and started behaving cunningly again. They  started living  in their seperate houses and left talking to each other once more.
In the mean time my father was transferred from the village  and we left the place for good.
It was after a long time, when I was a little grown up ,  I had a chance to visit the same village  again in connection with paying obiscance   to Mata Jwala Devi,  whose temple was located on a hillock thereat. It was a yearly Mela of Ashad chaturdashi. After paying my obiscance at  Mata,s shrine,  I thought of paying a visit to my old abode where I had spent few years of my childhood.
The hospital was shifted to some spacious building and some one had purchased it's old building . The hutment of Raghav Ram was in dilapidated condition and closed. I then ventured to peep through the orchard of Prakash Ram. There was hustle and bustle both  in the building and orchard. The people from far off places who had visited the shrine were preparing meals and resting all over the place. I could also see Raghav Ram helping the visitors most sincerely.
It took Raghav Ram a long time to recognise me because I was grown up now. Replying to my enquiry regarding Prakash Ram he said, "Prakash Ram  passed away few years back.
Actually when court decided the case in my favour, my brother felt very desperate and aghast and died the same night due to heart attack. Now being the lone surviving hear of  whole property  l am looking after it
After my death it will go to shrine board as per my registered will."
He further told me that men may come and men may  go but properties remain to dispute the relations for ever. I feel very sorry for my brother who guarded this property throughout his life and never compromised to part with inch of it and left the whole within a wink of eye.

My Wanderings - 49. Short Story - 31 God helps those who help themselves only

Kulbushan Kaul was my friend and class mate  right from my childhood.  While some among us  in the class wanted to become Engineers and Doctors, his  aim in life   was to become a Businessman.  A few among  us were not even aware of  what business meant those days. When we could understand that  business  meant  doing something like selling goods and merchandise, we were surprised for  his choice of profession. He was  extraordinarily mischievous and trouble maker. He used to get thrashed by teachers  on daily basis  and still  could not resist the temptation of doing some more  mischief.
Once in our adolescent age, Kulbushan suggested us to witness a new movie show to which everyone agreed wholeheartedly  . When we reached near  cinema hall, all of us  were astonished  to see the rush at  ticket counters . We all  contributed the money towards purchasing of  tickets and handed  it over  to Kulbushan as he was expert in getting  the cinema tickets in such a  huge rush. He started his modus operandi by  taking off his clothes one by one. He  gave us  his coat, sweater , watch and other belongings and proceeded for the task, wearing minimum clothes, crawling below the legs of people who surrounded the ticket window forming a  huge crowd  . Then he suddenly  disappeared from our gaze altogether and was lost in  the crowd . It was  really an uphill task but we were confident of his valour and optimistic about his art of  getting the tickets. We were sure that after crawling below the legs of people for sometime, he will manage to pop his head exactly near the ticket window by holding the iron sill of window and get the tickets. Getting tickets of a newly displayed cinema and  that too on holidays was not every body's cup of tea. It required a great art and technique. Sometimes Kulbushan adopted flying mode for getting tickets. He would  rise on the wall adjacent to  ticket window and while clinging to the wall he could manage to  reach the upper side of window. Then he would come down after trampling the heads of front rowers with his feet and forcing his way in front of window by dispersing the crowd. It was worth seeing feat and daredevil task. The mode of his operation depended on the position of crowd near the window and architecture of cinema hall. We considered him our hero and envied his athletic feats.
Cinema was the only  entertainment those days. VCR's DBD's and even  existence of TV was a remote possibility and beyond the area of our perception. Advance booking was not in vouge. The young people  visit cinema halls nowadays   most comfortably by making advance booking through 'Make my show' apps. Those days it was difficult to watch a new movie with out struggle, least of which was standing in long queues  for hours together. But watching a cinema after struggling for getting its ticket gave double pleasure later on.
  After quarter of an hour crowd started to disperse near the window as tickets had finished. We all were eagerly looking for our friend Kulbushan to appear and that too with success. After sometime we could see Kulbushan proceeding towards us in a very distraught  condition. We could hardly recognise him. His dishevelled hair , haggard look and sunken eyes were all telling a tale of agony and degradation  he might have undergone to secure entertainment  for us. We all were full of praises for his  extraordinary display of valour and heroism. But all our enthusiasm vanished into the  thin air as we noticed  desperation writ large on his face while declaring of his mission unsuccessful . He also told us that he had  lost all the cash in his possession in the process . It was just like adding salt to our injury . However, we controlled our emotions and handed over his belongings to him. Now the tickets were available in black only and that too at exorbitant rates .  We had not  enough cash to purchase cinema tickets in black and  therefore, had to eat  a humble pie. Finally Kulbushan took leave of us after arranging his dishevelled hair with his hands as he was going from different direction  as confided
by him to us . We also left the cinema hall in great displeasure  and dismay.
Next day after reaching School we came to know from one of  our senior students   that he had seen Kulbushan witnessing the same cinema  show. We were surprised how he could manage to get  his ticket. Later on it transpired that Kulbushan had not been unsuccessful in his mission. He had managed to get tickets from the window with our money,  but the idea of duping us had cropped up in his mind while in action. After we left   he sold all the tickets in black and kept one for himself. But he never felt embarrassed  for his deeds ,as according to him , all was fair in Love and Business. We had never thought that Kulbushan will outsmart us like this.  Therefore ,  we did not even ask him to repay  our money back as we felt so desperate about his behaviour.
Most of us were not able to fulfill our ambitions. All of us could not become Doctors or Engineers. But Kulbushan was successful in achieving his aim in life.
Kulbushan after much struggle in life  could make it possible to  became a successful Businessman .'God helps those who help themselves only'  was another famous  maxim,   the meaning of which was changed  by him  to his advantage by adding only to it.
His main aim in business was to maximise profits by hook or crook and  he never cared about  business ethics. Sometimes he would exploit the  loopholes of Govt regulations regarding taxes etc. to his advantage and even compromised the quality of his product for his benefit.
But one incident in his life changed his outlook towards  his business aptitude .
Once  a foreigner who was posted in India  entered his shop to purchase few  costly carpets  for his residence   and asked Kulbushan to make some concessions as he was going to purchase from his shop on regular basis. Kulbushan in order to please the valuable customer said to him,
"Sir. I can help you one way. I may not be able to give you puuca receipt of your purchases so that I can save tax and pass on the benefit to you."
After listening the words of Kulbushan foreigner got furious and replied  back to him,
"You appear to me a very dishonest man. You are deceiving your own Govt by not paying taxes , how can I believe that you will not deceive me on the quality of product . I don't want now  to purchase any thing from you. After saying this, foreigner cancelled his order and left the shop.
This incident laid a deep impact on the mind of Kulbushan. He changed his outlook towards  business. He stopped doing corrupt practices and maintained his books properly. This helped him to maintain his goodwill with customers and tax authorities. Moreover,  Kulbushan  could experience subtle feelings of sublimity in his life perhaps because of his clean  conscience now.

My Wanderings - 48. Short Story No. 30. The Man who Fooled Post officials

     It was melancholic February of Nineteen Ninety at   Srinagar.  Terrorists were ruling the roost and anarchy was rampant everywhere  in Kashmir.  Militancy had  pierced  deep even in the cadres  of administration  .  Any body could kill anyone on the street in broad day light  and escape unharmed. Kashmiri Pandits were the main targets of militants for ethnic  cleansing of the community from the province . The killings were going on account  of punishing the informers who were sabotaging their movement.  Actually innocents and particularly Kashmiri Pandits were being  killed in the name of jihad. I was living in a Lane around Habbakadal Srinagar. Atmosphere  was shivering  cold and gloomy matching the environment and circumstances prevelent at that time.
Once I left home for office at quarter to nine and could  notice  some people running backwards with guns  in the Lane, opening towards main Street leading to Habba kadal Bridge. I ventured to move ahead and noticed a body of middle aged man lying in a pool of blood on the main Street. All the people were running heltor skeltor and  shutter of shops  were being lowered by the shopkeepers in haste.  I could notice  vermilion pasted on the forehead of dead body and yes, I recognised the body . Oh! it was Shamboo nath. A cold shrill passed through whole of  my spine and I could not help stopping the wild shriek  coming out of  my throat by holding my mouth shut . In the meantime police arrived and I returned towards my residence. After reaching  home, I heaved a sigh of relief and disclosed  the reason of my return to my wife, who was already tense due to noise she heard coming from our lane after I left.
This gruesome incident, which I had just witnessed started working upon my nerves and I felt most uncomfortable in the most cosy atmosphere of my bed room. The smiling face of Shamboo Nath was constantly haunting me and I was not able to tear off my attention from the  most familiar disposition of the person, whom I had seen lying in the pool of blood recently. He always greeted me with a classical broad smile whenever he encountered me. His smile was really worth million  dollars. The nature has created  all individuals with distinctive features  but  some with unique characteristics  which can not be ignored so easily.
First time I saw Shamboo Nath when my father brought him home  to have lunch with us. He was a middle aged person of average stature clad in ' firan '
and wearing a dark coloured Gandhi  cap as headgear.
He appeared to me a very simple person rather a simpleton with a charismatic  smile which rarely escaped his radiant  face. From that day onwards he started visiting  our house once in a weak or fortnight to have lunch or breakfast with us. He always narrated to us amazing  incidents of his life which justified his innocence and made us laugh for hours together . He became a source of entertainment for us. Later on it transpired that he was  a bachelor and had worked  as a domestic help to some family for decades and left them in his old age. Now he was living in a small room of a nearby temple provided to  him by some  acquaintance .  In marriage season he had no problem regarding his daily food. He could manage to visit any marriage function, whether invited or uninvited and have his daily lunch and dinner   there. Otherwise he visited the people living in neighbourhood for the purpose. But he visited every household with a smile and always prayed for their welfare and entertained them with his classical ancedots and made them laugh to the hilt. He was so innocent and harmless that everyone welcomed him for his positive attitude and interesting ancedots which he narrated with a dramatic appeal.
Once he noticed me taking a simple meal before proceeding to office. He suggested  me to accompany him for a hearty meal at Warikoo's house , who were celebrating  marriage ceremony of their son. I most politely declined his invitation offer  with the excuse that  my presence at office was required urgently.
He was a very good conversationalist . His conversation was always full of humour and satire. Whenever simple food was served to him. He would usually say. Oh! You are very formal with me. Why do you prepare such delicacies for me. I am one among you. You should treat me like that. We always acknowledged his  comic utterances with delightful gestures and never considered him burden on us.
Once Shamboo Nath's  earlier landlord narrated me an incident of him  . He told me,  I gave him  Five rupees along with few letters  one day and advised him  to purchase stamps from the Post office and post the letters after affixing stamps on them.
After some time he reached back  with a jubilant look and while returning the money back addressed to me enthusiastically.
Sir I have fooled the Post officials today . I did not purchase stamps. I looked everywhere  and after confirming  that no body was noticing me, I dropped the letters in the Post Box with out affixing stamps on them.  To day I outsmarted them and saved your money. The landlord felt aghast and clean bowled by his smartness.
While brooding over the incident, I fell asleep and was awoken by a harsh knock at the door. I got  startled as a slight knock at the door could frighten one easily  those days. I  looked at the wall clock. It was already half past six. Some body was calling me. It was a familiar voice. I rushed to the front gate and opened it with a jerk. I was astonished .Lo and behold ! it was Shamboo Nath in flesh and blood and very much   alive before my eyes. I could not beleive my eyes. I controlled my curiosity and   let him in with out disclosing any thing to him. However, He informed me that another Hindu was killed today on the main Street  heading towards Habbakadal by the terrorists . The victim was Janki Nath resident  of Fateh kadel , a retired School teacher who had come through our lane to reach Habba kadal Bridge.
Later on it transpired that it was a case of mistaken  identity. The terrorists  had actually to kill Shamboo Nath , whom they considered temple priest and informer as he visited from door to door in the area. They were given full identity of Shamboo Nath who used to leave temple usually  at quarter to nine. But on  the fateful day Shamboo Nath was late by half an hour and an unknown person Janki Nath of Fateh kadal was crossing the lane who resembled Shamboo Nath in every respect , the same stature, same firan, same cap and  most conspicous  same vermilion pasted on his forehead , was shown to killers who were living near chota bazar  and had reached the spot  crossing through by lanes with Gun in their hands. They killed the victim at point zero range to ensure  his instant death. I could understand that  whether Shamboo Nath had really fooled the post officials that day or not  but he had outsmarted his killers today.
Next day arrangements were made to send Shamboo Nath to Jammu as his life was in  great risk. We also joined him at Jammu after some time.

My Wanderings -5

                                           We can not deny the fact that great writers and artists have  indirectly brought  big revolutions  in this world. The French and Russian revolutions are glaring examples of  that.  Their role was not active, but they portrayed the facts of  life having remarkable similarities  with then prevailing society, which made the ordinary people aware of their condition as well as of others living with them. The depiction of  intimate realities of life on the piece of  paper  or canvass  is the essence of good literature or art. If a piece of art or literature is true to the vagaries of  life, it leaves an indelible mark on the minds of readers  to the extent that they rise against all the odds hampering their living conditions and growth. Why these writers rake up the dirt  in society and throw  it  everywhere to make all gloomy and sad. They do it deliberately to awaken the people, who are in deep slumber of ignorance and indifference towards their worst conditions created by few for personal gains.
It is well known fact   that good writers, painters, actors, singers and dancers are  acclaimed by every one, but  I personally feel that all credit should not go to them only and they only should not be  considered as artists. Every profession is contributing to society equally.  A good teacher,  a good engineer or a good accountant  is not also less than an artist. Art is usually attributed to excellence or perfection in any field and not  to any particular  trade or profession. Therefore, trade and profession does not matter, but what matters is excellence in that profession or trade.  Whosoever achieves excellence in his trade is an artist. A good mechanic or a good accountant is also a good artist in his field of occupation.
Even a housewife who is managing her household and children perfectly is also an artist par excellence because her contribution to  manage her home and children with devotion  is devoid of any pecuniary interest or motive of recognition.
                    Therefore, aim of every person should be to achieve excellence, if not perfection, in his profession. A person having aptitude for his trade should follow the technique of trade and try to achieve excellence in it with honesty.  He should not follow money or success. When he will  achieve excellence in his trade, money and success  will automatically follow him.
It is nice to see that good work or good  performance  of our players, Actors or writers is being recognized these days by giving awards to them. Army personal are also awarded decorations for doing some heroic deeds in wars or fighting  against terrorists.  Recognition of good performance of a player, musician or an actor is very important to acknowledge their hard work  and difficulties they faced to achieve the art.
The sacrifices made by our army personal  for Nation at the stake of their lives  can not also be ignored so easily.
Actually  heroism is a basic instinct  present in every  human being, which gets activated at the time of exigency of incident or as per the demand of event.  We have also  seen many incidents of  civilians also doing heroic jobs  by saving  the life of persons  from drowning  or many other accidents at the risk of their own lives. But army personnel  often get opportunity to show their bravery or valour and civilians get it rarely. Every ordinary person gets a chance ,at least once in life,  when the trait of heroism already present in him gets activated and he responds to  the situation with gallantry and great valour. But  how often this trait gets activated depends from person to person.
Once I had also a privilege of helping in  saving the life of a technician who was working at the site of construction of my house. He was engaged in floor work  with a grinder inside  my newly semi built  house. I was supervising the job of some other workers outside the house. In the meantime I heard a wailing shriek of technician and sound of some big object falling on the floor inside. A cold shrill passed through whole of my spine and  with out going inside to look into the matter, I immediately rushed to the switch board outside and switched off  the mains. In the mean time all other workers had reached inside and I followed them to witness a nerve racking scene. The technician was lying unconscious on the ground with the electric shock and the grinding machine was upside down. We immediately applied first aid and rushed for a doctor. The technician regained consciousness after lot of  hassle. His colleagues thanked me for saving his life. But I felt  it was a matter of chance that  a good sense prevailed upon me to act at the nick of time without any heroic impetus as it was not accomplished at the risk of my life.

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My Wanderings - 47. Short Story No. 29. Old Crazy Lad and his Gramaphone

It was month of October in year 1984 and  Autumn  in Kashmir  was full in swing. The  earth was profusely  covered with crimson coloured withered Chinar leaves which made crunchy noise when trampled under the feet. The mild rays of sun were playing hide and seek through the tree tops which were in a striping  mode and  constantly shedding their  veil of leaves . In that serene atmosphere   I came across a strange person, who left an indelible mark on my mind for so many years to come . I was sitting on the  verandah of my friends house  While enjoying the mild sun rays caressing my body,  I could observe a person of average stature, listening to his Grama phone placed in front of him , sitting on the verandah of opposite  house and stealing glances towards me with a whimsical smile. I could not control my curiosity and enquired about him from my friend.  My friend with out making any reply to my query  stood up and asked me to accompany him. I followed my friend with out any questions. He took me near the person with Grama phone  and introduced him to me.
"He is Baitoth, my neighbour and  he has recently retired  from Public works Department as Head clerk." . Baitoth greeted me warmly and made us sit on the two  vacant chairs in front of him. 
After exchanging pleasantries with both of us, Baitoth pointed towards Grama phone playing in front of him and directly addressed  to me, " Do you recognise the voice". I shook  my head in confutation. 
"It is Manna dey's father singing. I have a huge collection of old songs lying inside my room"
I came to know first time  that Manna dey's father was also a famous  singer.  The Grama phone lying there was working manually. He had to wind the key of Grama phone  many times for listening songs. The each winding lasted for playing hardly  a single song . Then he had to rewind it again to listen another.
"I sometimes steal some  time from my daily schedule to listen these songs to satisfy my hobby, but usually I remain  busy with studies and cooking", said Baitoth. I thought he must be interested in reading novels etc.  After listening few songs , I took leave of Baitoth along with my friend.
Then my friend told me that he also does not know his real name. He is usually addressed as "Baitoth" by every one in the neighbourhood . Actually his wife died after the marriage of his only  daughter few years back and his daughter is now settled somewhere  in states with her family.  He   had to stop his education only after completing Matriculation due to untimely death of his father and look out for a job to sustain his mother and younger siblings. Now after retirement he is persuing   his studies. I was amazed to learn that he has  continued his studies after a long gap and that too  at this age.
Later on  I also came to know that his neighbours were making fun of him and used to call him by names like "old crazy  Lad" etc. in  his absence . But he used to visit  students around his neighbourhood who were also appearing for  the same exam  to exchange  notes and books with them. On the exam day he would  sit whole night preparing for his exam ,sometimes,  along with other nearby  students. I once noticed him carrying an  inkpot and few pens  in his hand while on his way to exam centre. He would always give a mischievous smile whenever  confronted by some acquaintance. Knowing fully well that most of people were making fun of him,  he never deterred  from his mission. His friends were mostly young boys and students of neighbourhood, who usually visited him for discussing exam strategies. After sometime I totally lost touch with him as my friend shifted from there to newly constructed house in   some other colony.
Many years later,  once I met Baitoth in Jammu after migration of our community from Srinagar. He apperead to me much younger and agile. He recognised me at once  and greeted me with the same mischievous smile. He told me that he is living in   rented  room near by. After talking  with him for some time  it transpired that he has completed his Master's degree at Srinagar.  Further  he confided to me that  it was a wish of his father that I  should complete my education .But he died much earlier when I was still a young Boy. Therefore I could not realise the wish of my father at right time. Sooner or later I was bound to realise the wish of my father. Now he was teaching migrant children at Muthi  camp free of cost. Some children of the community residing near by visited him at his rented accommodation also for private tuition, but he was not charging any fees for his services. The company of children and young students was a big reward for him in this lonely and forlorn life. He loved  their company  very much and considered them a great gift bestowed to him by almighty.
Now it was only few years back I came to know that Baitoth  had  finally visited  his daughter in  USA. His daughter was very happy to see her father after a long time. She was very much eager to show her father all the worth seeing places in states. She wanted to buy many gifts for him. But her father was not so particular to make any purchases there.  Once they entered an antique shop and his attention was attracted towards many old Grama phones lying there in a corner. He was thrilled to recognise his own Grama Phone which was also one among them.  He recognised his Gramaphone by his own initials  M.L.D. which he had himself engraved upon it. He was happy to see his Gramaphone again, which he had left  in his home  at Kashmir with his other belongings , while leaving his birthplace for good in the begining of 1990. He enquired about his Gramaphone from Shopkeeper,  but how his Gramaphone has reached from his home at Kashmir to this Antique shop in US remained a mystery for him. Now he wanted to repurchase his Gramaphone at any cost .He was enthusiastic like a child  when taken to a toy  shop. His daughter could   well understand   the emotional attachment of her father with his Grama phone.  She purchased the  Gramaphone  for her father at very exorbitant price. His father rejoiced to get his Gramaphone back.
Then after a lapse of  very short time  "Baitoth" while strolling  in the neighbour hood of his daughters House  stopped near another house  to look at the children playing there. But the landlord of the house got suspicious and  called for  the police,  who bullied "Baitoth" and roughed up with him so intensely  that he finally landed at Hospital and passed his last breath there.

My Wanderings - 46. Short Story No. 28 Little Lord with a Pince Nez

Neelkanth Safaya was virtually a man with English tastes. He was influenced by English language and culture to a great extent. After completing his graduation  in pre -partition days, he joined  as clerk in an English firm located at Residency Road Srinagar but became its Manager within a short span of time by the dint of his hard work and command over English language . Neelkanth was actually a man of short stature with a  fair complexion. He was also a man of attire and attitudes. In earlier days of his career he used to wear a  long English frock coat and breeches, which mismatched his personality and made him a laughing stock in the market. But with the change of fashion , he started wearing a three piece suit, which suited his personality very much. Moreover his dress accessories comprised of an English hat, a contrast coloured neck tie or a bow tie and a golden rimmed pince nez  loosely fitted on his eyes wth the support of his nose alongwith a small cane with a golden head engaging  fingers of his  small right hand.
He used to come  daily at sharp half past nine from some obscure lane, in the above-said  attire, to  reach near an  open space beyond  Habba kadal chowk to drive his small car which was parked there due to shortage of parking space at his residence. Moreover lane heading towards his residence was very narrow to afford the passage of even a small car. No body could question about a small or big car and even make of car, as mere possession of a car was a mark of affaulance  those days.
However, Neelkanth was a man of principles and highly disciplinarian . He could never afford to take lightly any type of indiscipline   especially  at the  place of his  work. Once calling the explanation of one of his subordinates , he gave him in writing that his attitude smacks of insubordination and impertinence, with a copy to Head office , which cost dearly to the later and after much persuasion he could save his job.
In addition to his job Neelkanth was a voracious  reader. He was having Intrest in subjects like literature , philosophy and psychology. He had made a small library in the balcony of the  upper story of his house, which he called study in English style. Latter on he developed Intrest in Homeopathy and started practising Homeopathy from his study. He helped many chronic patients by his treatment. He was also interested in Astronomy. He could be seen looking towards stars for hours together through his imported telescope installed in his study. He also listened to news through his ear phone Radio and read newspapers to remain conversant with the day to day affairs. Sometimes he favoured the authority and sometimes he flouted it as per his choice and ideology.
Most of the people used to visit him for writing  their drafts and applications. He used to oblige them free of cost. While making the drafts he used to murmur , people write 'Indian English' but I write 'English English'. Once listening to a speech of English man, Neelkanth objected to his speech and told  him directly, "Don't try to conceal facts by  impressing  me by your knowledge of English vacabulary, I know enough of it ".It was to the amusement of audience and amazement of the orator.
He used to visit hotels and cinemas with his family frequently which was not much in vouge those days.
Inspite of all his virtues , he was having only one vice that was his dominating personality. The victim of this
Trait of his personality was his wife and elder son. He used to take all their decisions himself. He never let them grow independently . They were dependent on his decisions . He always  nourished a dream to visit his much cherished country Britain. As he was much occupied in his job, he wanted to realise his dream through his son. He sent his son to Britain for studying medicine  to the much reluctance of the later. But his son had never learned to disobey his father, he was left with no other alternative but to realise the wish of his father. Neelkanth was much interested to see his son as a thorough English gentleman rather than a Doctor. His son got established as a Doctor in London and married an English lady there. He never returned back to India as he did not want to remain under the dominance of his father again.
After so many years , Neelkanth also got a chance to visit his son at London. He was shocked to see that concept  of English gentry, which he had cherished  through out his life, has  vanished altogether. The Indians were also as good as English men. Moreover his son looked  more traditional Indian wearing Dhoti and Kurta in London and his English daughter in-law was clad in an Indian sari. He and his wife had joined Hare Rama , Hare Krishna mission established at London. They were much satisfied with eastern culture and rituals that Neelkanth could not believe his eyes and remained in bewilderment to witness the topsy turvy of his much cherished ideology.