A Close Call

             

Radha flipped on all the lights and brought a jar of luke warmwater and a glass from her little kitchenette to her not so spacious drawing room. Before flopping on the bean bag which was her routine she turned on the Sony music system to a melodious Kishore- Asha number. That was also her routine, listening to music, mornings and evenings. More than the noise of the idiot box, she loved to listen to the music. Mornings would be peppy numbers, even dance numbers and evenings would be Kishore-Asha, Lata and Moh’d Rafi. 

Radha enjoyed watching movies as well. She was kind of a movie buff and thoroughly enjoyed watching Hollywood flicks with great plots. She always told her friends that she was  a sucker for thrillers, rom coms and mysteries and watched them amply during her college days. But in Bathinda, where she was staying courtesy her husband’s posting there was not a single English movie theatre to be found and she had to do it with the movie cd’s which her husband kept stocked for her.

While drinking Radha glanced out and sighed, it was already getting dark and misty. It was the month of December and Punjab experienced chilly weather with dense fog and here she was sitting all alone in her tiny army quarters, lonely, nobody to talk to. But, then she thought since the day before she was feeling better than many other days. She now knew she would pull through this tough time for him, for herself and their marriage.

Radha stood by the window and looked hard into the fog, she was not able to see anything outside, this was a new game she played these days she called it painting in the fog, she would paint summer, spring colours in the fog imagining herself dancing walking hand in hand with her beloved husband. She remembered now the incidence that had made her so resilient, patient, much mature than before.

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Radha had never imagined, let alone experienced such utter silence coupled with loneliness in her twenty-three-year-old life. All her life she had lived in a crowded place with ten family members living together in one house on the main road of the city. Radha slept with the noise of horns and the wheeze of the cars and scooters as her lullabies

Radha’s life had taken a ninety degrees turn when she married her long-time boyfriend. Though she knew that she was going to an almost foreign place, experiencing it in reality was a different ball game. Initially she found everything exotic, she had to learn so much right from the army etiquettes to the cooking and housekeeping which she did happily but the silence was deafening that was difficult to deal with.

After a long honeymoon or it can be called a long trail of traveling to various pilgrim places which Radha jokingly named as pilnimoon, they had returned to their station. On that very evening Radha was greeted by an ill fitted MES lampshade with a bang. So in no time Radha also got an opportunity to see the Military Hospital. 

These were minor accidents but the one which she had undergone had a lot of mental ache. Operation Parakram had started, within a month of the parliament attack. The army was deployed at the border and Radha always felt that she was also one of those war casualties. Like a mine blast or a rocket launcher strike, within 24 hours of the announcement her life had become lonely, drab. Frozen in time she felt, reduced to waiting for her husband to return. 

Radha hated evenings the most. The days would pass well. As it is, lately she had joined a nursery school, as a teacher, which kept her occupied till the afternoons. After coming home, she would cook something, which was not anything great. As, she hardly knew how to cook, neither had any motivation to cook just for herself. Usually after having food, Radha would pick up a book and read till she dozed off. Then in the evening after a cup of tea she would get ready for a long walk. A walk which would tire her out, stop her from thinking anything and immediately put her to sleep. 

Living alone which was challenging was also extremely mood swinging for her. Radha remained busy, happy, active, jubilant when Vikas arrived for couple of days and then again weepy, listless when he went away. 

A pessimistic thought had started peeking in her mind lately. She felt as if she was not living in those two rooms but at a station where no train stopped or even if it stopped it stopped fleetingly for somebody to stretch their legs for a while. She had soon realised that she had no company, the ladies of her age group had left the station to be with their parents or other loved ones, safe and sound. She was the only one who was staying all alone. This thought had got reinforced in her mind as she had seen one young lady of her age cocooned amongst her elders. 

Radha now remembered that evening of Friday clear as a crystal. That evening she had met Kuhu on a walk with her mother-in-law. She was her husband’s course mate’s wife. Kuhu’s mother had invited her for a cup of tea and Radha had agreed. It was a welcome change from her solitary schedule. Radha had spent almost an hour in their house and had chatted freely with Kuhu and her in-laws. During the conversations she had come to know about the arrangements that both set of parents had made for Kuhu. Right then the in-laws were there and before they would leave the parents were going to be present. Radha had listened to this piece of information with admiration. 

After an hour when she had left their home with some sweets and snacks that aunty had packed for her, Radha had started brooding on her own situation. Radha’s in-laws had never come, her mother had come and stayed with her for a month and had left and that was now long time back. Now it was again December. 

Normally Radha always took pride in her independence and confidence but that day the thick fog had shrouded her mind, with cobwebs of pessimism and self-pity. It had robbed her of her minds clarity, blurred her vision. So many questions of which she had answers came back to her mind, nagging her, ‘Why I was not pampered? Why I am not living in a proper house amongst people?’ She had been living in a bachelors’ accommodation, as it was still time for her husband to become eligible to claim for a married accommodation. The more she had thought of it the more she had felt that she was staying there alone pointlessly and should go back home and not come back till her husband comes to take her. 

So she had decided to give a call to her husband. She had been angry with him. Neither he was getting leave, nor he was coming to meet her. In a fit of anger, she decided to immediately make a call to her husband and tell him that she will be going back home and only come back if and when he decides to come and fetch her. 

In that desperate state she had gone to the phone booth, walking in the dense fog, talking to herself, even occasionally crying. Radha was immersed in self- pity. She had planned everything, how she would speak, what she will say and quickly keep the phone down. On reaching the phone booth she saw a huge, twisting turning, queue, occasionally leaning, sitting, waiting patiently, hope manifested into human form waiting to talk and basically gain human warmth from words and laughter from back home, bringing encouragement to the lonely life full of discipline, hardships, challenges and high stakes. The queue had started from the enclosure of the phone booth and had come out for half a kilometre or so. It was a despairing situation. She stood there for a while but realised she had no chance to speak with her husband that day. So she moved out of the queue and had started walking farther towards another telephone booth. 

Radha had kept walking at a brisk pace and when she had reached the other phone booth, a sigh of relief had escaped her frozen conscious. She saw just a couple of soldiers ahead of her and hope had once again crawled back in her heart. It was a room with benches set by the wall for the visitors to wait for their turn. There was no private cabin to sit in and make the call. Radha had settled on one of the benches pretending not to hear anything that the soldiers spoke, but actually she was able to hear everything. The first one had spoken for about 10 minutes talking in Rajasthani with his father, mother and his sisters. He kept the phone with some effort, after all he had to see the metre as well.

Then another young soldier, a Rajput, she had thought, he was the one and then it was going to be her turn. She checked the time. It was already 10:30 pm. She had just hoped that her husband would be still in the dining room tent, where the phone in their unit had been installed, as he had told her. The soldier had dialled a couple of times. On his second attempt the call had gone through. He had spoken to his mother first. 

Radha had guessed that she was asking him, if he was coming home in the new year. He had just mumbled in the negative and shrugged off his mother’s complaints, “Ok ma, give the phone to others, father, Chhote, Poonam where is everybody, please call them. I don’t have complete night to talk, I have unit duties to do.” Radha had been able to hear his mother mumbling something from the other side. “haan, haan unit, unit or unit,pata nahi kabh ghar aayega?” Then there had been a change in the pitch of the voice. It was his wife speaking, worried as well as sad. “Aren’t you coming in January as well? What happened? Aren’t you getting your leave?” 

Radha still remembered it well, the young man had taken a deep breath and with great difficulty had told her. “Haan Poonam it has been long, more than a year, I know. It pains me to tell you no. But the times are not good. Hence there is no leave. Radha could see the scene vividly in the foggy sky, the soldier hadblinked rapidly. 

Then he had asked about his younger brother, their village and others. The wife had told him something, on which he had nodded his head and said “ok, ok.” Then she must have told him something funny as he had laughed a bit. Like this they had gone on talking for a while. Then very reluctantly he had asked her if he could keep the phone down. And also had promised that he would call twice in a week, thence forth. Radha had heard seemingly happy voice saying yes. Then the soldier had kept the phone down heavily, had paid and then left.

It had been then Radha’s turn to make the call. She had stood up with great effort and had mechanically gone to the telephone and had picked up the receiver, but instead of dialling the number Radha had kept it down and in a daze walked out. Surprisingly the fog had lifted its shroud then and she was able to see the long stretch of the road clearly. The view had been magical. That day she had missed him more intensely, but knew in the heart of heart that even he must be remembering her right then.

Anuradha Singh

         

   A close call Radha flipped on all the lights and brought a jar of luke warm water and a glass from her littlekitchenette to her not so spacious drawing room. Before flopping on the bean bag which was herroutine she turned on the Sony music system to a melodious Kishore- Asha number. That was also her routine, listening to music, mornings and evenings. More than the noise of the idiot box,she loved to listen to the music. Mornings would be peppy numbers, even dance numbers and evenings would be Kishore-Asha, Lata and Moh’d Rafi. Radha enjoyed watching movies as well. She was kind of a movie buff and thoroughly enjoyed watching Hollywood flicks with great plots. She always told her friends that she was a sucker forthrillers, rom  coms  and  mysteries and  watched  them  amply  during her  college  days.  But  in Bathinda, where she was staying courtesy her husband’s posting there was not a single English movie theatre to be found and she had to do it with the movie cd’s which her husband kept stocked for her. 

While drinking Radha glanced out and sighed, it was already getting dark and misty. It was the month of December and Punjab experienced chilly weather with dense fog and here she was sitting all alone in her tiny army quarters, lonely, nobody to talk to. But, then she thought since the day before she was feeling better than many other days. She now knew she would pull through this tough time for him, for herself and their marriage. Radha stood by the window and looked hard into the fog, she was not able to see anything outside, this was a new game she played these days she called it painting in the fog, she would paint summer, spring colours in the fog imagining herself dancing walking hand in hand with her beloved husband. She remembered now the incidence that had made her so resilient, patient, much mature than before.

Radha had never imagined, let alone experienced such utter silence coupled with loneliness in her  twenty-three-year-old  life.  All  her  life  she  had  lived  in  a  crowded  place  with  ten  family members living together in one house on the main road of the city. Radha slept with the noise of horns and the wheeze of the cars and scooters as her lullaby’s. Radha’s life had taken a ninety degrees turn when she married her long-time boyfriend. Though she knew that she was going to an almost foreign place, experiencing it in reality was a different ball game. Initially she found everything exotic, she had to learn so much right from the army etiquettes to the cooking and housekeeping which she did happily but the silence was deafening that was difficult to deal with. After a long honeymoon or it can be called a long trail of traveling to various pilgrim places which Radha jokingly named as pilnimoon, they had returned to their station. On that very evening Radha was greeted by an ill fitted MES lampshade with a bang. So in no time Radha also got an opportunity to see the Military Hospital. These were minor accidents but the one which she had undergone had a lot of mental ache.

Operation  Parakram  had  started,  within  a  month  of  the  parliament  attack.  The  army  was deployed at the border and Radha always felt that she was also one of those war casualties. Like a mine blast or a rocket launcher strike, within 24 hours of the announcement her life had become lonely, drab. Frozen in time she felt, reduced to waiting for her husband to return. Radha hated evenings the most. The days would pass well. As it is, lately she had joined a nursery school, as a teacher, which kept her occupied till the afternoons. After coming home, she would cook something, which was not anything great. As, she hardly knew how to cook, neither had any motivation to cook just for herself. Usually after having food, Radha would pick up a- book and read till she dozed off. Then in the evening after a cup of tea she would get ready for along walk. A walk which would tire her out, stop her from thinking anything and immediately put her to sleep. 

Living alone which was challenging was also extremely mood swinging for her. Radha remained busy, happy, active, jubilant when Vikas arrived for couple of days and then again weepy, listless when he went away. A pessimistic thought had started peeking in her mind lately. She felt as if she was not living in those two rooms but at a station where no train stopped or even if it stopped it stopped fleetingly for somebody to stretch their legs for a while. She had soon realised that she had no company, the ladies of her age group had left the station to be with their parents or other loved ones, safe and sound. She was the only one who was staying all alone. This thought had got reinforced in her mind as she had seen one young lady of her age cocooned amongst her elders. Radha now remembered that evening of Friday clear as a crystal. That evening she had met Kuhu on a walk with her  mother-in-law.  She  was  her husband’s course mate’s wife. Kuhu’s mother had invited her for a cup of tea and Radha had agreed. It was a welcome change from routine.