A debt never repaid

A debt never repaid
(Short Story )
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Lost in reflections on the incidents and accidents that had unfolded within his brief twenty-two years of life, Debashish found himself wandering in search of the true meaning of relationships. He was not  born with a silver spoon in mouth. He was born into a middle-class family in the village of Patapur. His father, Brajabandhu Choudhury, was a primary school teacher and a respected, level-headed elder of the village. His uncle, Shyamabandhu, was unemployed.

Debashish’s childhood was a manuscript written in sorrow and tears. One day, his uncle and aunt lost their lives in a bus accident. Thereafter, the responsibility of raising their only son, Anshuman, fell upon Brajabandhu. Anshuman was eight years older than Debashish. The uncle had left behind no wealth for his son’s upbringing. On the contrary, he had squandered much of his share of ancestral property, leaving behind only a few patches of barren land and the heavy responsibility of raising Anshuman.

Anshuman was a bright student. After completing his higher secondary education, he secured a seat in a medical college. But educating him there was no easy task. The thought of arranging lakhs of rupees weighed heavily on Brajabandhu’s mind.
Calling Anshuman aside, he said gently, “Look, Anshu, I am just a low-paid primary school teacher. I cannot afford to support your medical studies for eight to ten years. The expenses are enormous. It would be better if you enroll in engineering instead.”
Anshuman did not reply. He stood silently, scratching the ground with his toe, tears streaming down his face. His expression spoke volumes, though he uttered only a few words: “Uncle,if my parents were alive, would I have to worry like this? They would have mortgaged everything to make me a doctor. Whatever happens, I would rather remain uneducated than study engineering.”

It felt as though someone had sliced through Brajabandhu’s heart with a blade. Silent pain shimmered as tears in the corners of his eyes. But at that moment, his wife Pratima gathered Anshuman in her arms and reassured him, “Do not worry, Anshu. You will study medicine.” Turning to her husband, she said firmly, “Sell our jewelry and land if needed, but educate him. No matter what ever hardship we face, he must become a doctor.”

For Anshuman’s education, Brajabandhu sacrificed everything. He mortgaged all his property, often going hungry to support the studies of his nephew .Yet, he never broke down. He would often say, “Once Anshuman becomes a doctor, all our troubles will end. He would also take care of Debashish's education . What more do we need then?”

But fate had other plans. A professor at the medical college took notice of Anshuman's brilliance . Lured by wealth and opportunity, Anshuman was drawn into his fold. As soon as he completed his MBBS, the professor spent a fortune to establish a modern nursing home for him. Anshuman forgot his village forever—and along with it, he forgot his uncle, aunt, and Debashish, who had endured hunger to make him a doctor.

Debashish recalled how, while joining medical college, Anshuman was professing like an idealist. He used to say that he would never take up a government job but would open a clinic in the village and serve people free of cost. He  promised at that time to care of his ageing uncle and aunt and also Debashish's education.

Hearing such noble words, Brajabandhu’s heart would swell with pride, and tears of joy would fill his eyes. He once told his wife, “See, Pratima! What lofty ideals Anshuman has got ! He will surely uphold our family’s honor. Even if I become a pauper for his education, I have no regrets. I can sacrifice everything for him.”
That day, Debashish too had been moved by his father’s emotion. Stroking his head, Brajabandhu had said, “I have no worries about you, Debu. When Anshuman opens his clinic in the village, you will assist him. The blessings of the villagers would be equal to the virtues of many lifetimes. Those who leave their roots for jobs elsewhere and forget their own people are not human? They are selfish and ungrateful.”

But Brajabandhu’s dreams were shattered the day Anshuman, after becoming a doctor, announced not only his success story but also the the fact that he was in love with the professor's daughter and would aligne himself shortly with the professor’s family. The professor himself arrived with his daughter to declare that Anshuman loved her and that their marriage would soon be solemnized along with the inauguration of the newly built hospital.
That day, Anshuman had not come to seek Brajabandhu’s consent—he had come merely to inform him of his decision.

Debashish still remembered the deep shock it had given his father. Even Yudhishthira, humiliated in the game of dice and exiled after losing Indraprastha, might not have felt such pain.

A few days later, invitations for the wedding and hospital inauguration arrived. Brajabandhu tore them into pieces and scattered them in the air.

The blow was unbearable. It struck the most sensitive corner of his heart. From then on, he became bedridden, growing weaker day by day. Seeing his condition, Pratima’s eyes were never free of tears. One day, she pleaded with Debashish, “Debu, will your father never recover? Take him to Cuttack… show him to Anshuman once.”

When they went, Anshuman touched his uncle’s feet and instructed his assistant to conduct all tests. “He is my own uncle, take proper care of himself ,” he said, before leaving for a major operation at Kalinga Hospital, Bhubaneswar

After the tests, the assistant handed them a bill of five thousand rupees and asked them to deposit it at the counter. Astonished, Debashish asked, “Doesn’t the doctor know our relationship with him?”
Folding his hands helplessly, the assistant replied, “What can we do, sir? We are just employees. Everyone knows he is the doctor’s own uncle . But the doctor and madam have ordered that no one is to be treated free—not even relatives. Madam says, ‘We haven’t opened a charity hospital. After spending so much money to become doctors, how will we recover the money?’

This was perhaps the final blow of ingratitude on Brajabandhu’s sensitive heart. Without completing the tests, he returned from Cuttack in tears.

Debashish, who had sacrificed his own higher education for such a selfish and greedy relative, witnessed that day the chameleon-like nature of relationships. Filled with disgust, anger, and shame, he looked up at the sky and cried out:
“God! Why is your unseen staff silent?”...
(Kulamani Sarangi )