Vivek Sehgal

Abstract Drama Romance

4.3  

Vivek Sehgal

Abstract Drama Romance

Caravan

Caravan

11 mins
1.1K


Mr Shashank Das was accustomed to being found resting on the rusting grey bench in the ground with a smouldering cigar in his old hands, mould creeping out of its welded edges smelled foul and the sun couldn’t penetrate deep into it. In his company was an old flabby Banyan tree tilting towards his house with bone-pale mushrooms hidden in its crevices, and a breathless Rony lusting the forbidden fruits on the Laburnum to his left, those ripe brown snakelets tempted him day and night waiting for him to prey upon them but Das had forbidden him to consume those poisonous snakelets wrapped in mustard-amber flowers blooming akin to grapes.

“The grass is moist, beware!”

“You always stop me, Sasha, you had a boring childhood I won’t”

“What if you fall down and get yourself hurt?”

“I got you for that” he chuckled “Mom asks me to take your care but isn’t it wrong? You should do it for me”

Shashank couldn’t help but laugh at his guilelessness kiss him on his forehead and set him free as if he was a bird caged behind the silver wires. “It gives pleasure to set ‘em free, forever,” he thought

While he had his head drooping off his lap, Rony asked his Grandpa the year-old question he had been asking “How was your time?”. And Das never told him about the details, he kept them vague for him to decipher on his own thus to Rony it was the same as his but in a rural setting in Haryana, with way more vegetation, livestock, humanity and profoundness. Running naked in his mind the visions of the picturesque village detailed with rivers, wells, farms and habitation of grounded people has established soft roots, he had crafted some characters of his own and killed some as per his will. But what made the vast plot unique was that he had tied strings of innocence to all the characters.

This was after several years that Rony found himself secluded from the world of his Grandfather, his distaste in his youth and habitat made him yearn for the gone age even more voraciously, “Our generation sucks!”

“Did Carry mock you?”

“No Sasha, it is just so sly, so heartless and so mean”

“The world is the hallucination of our conscious awareness”

“So, you wanna say I seek the ills?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth nigga”

“Hey!” Rony giggled “You are funny Sasha”

“Do you wanna know, more about my time, the minute details that I missed?”

“Will you really tell me about that?”

“But I don’t want no questions till the end, you ask and I stop”

“Let me get fresh first”

 Das sipped some water and breathed a sigh, the fine moment of their time would be unleashed in a few moments and he couldn’t wait to relive those days of nostalgia,

As he quotes;

Slithering on the promiscuous sand, the endless caravan of ‘banjaras’ spilt colours in the erstwhile monochromatic land of the dead and dry, the chiming anklets and harmony of a chorus breaking the monotony of the tiresome journey resonated throughout the dunes, the wind thus became reinvigorated and marked the arrival of the novel charm of the guests from the other land. Stepping on the fresh moist ground the herder’s feet oozed out the lethargic heat it had extemporized, the aroma of fresh fruits, wheat and mustard filled their eyes and ears with stimulus like no other, this abundance will take over them. And before the ‘first golden leaf ‘falls this gigantic face of life bleating as cattle, singing as women, playing as children and laborious as these men, would retreat to their land.

Sindhura was her name as divine as a goddess her hair strands veiled her resplendent beauty and her mustard attire camouflaged in the mustard fields budding with an oily aroma. Sindhura, her name was a feminine annotation of vermillion which the women wore as a symbol of marriage and esteem, but she was young as me and wasn’t married; her Rajasthani attire studded with heavy jewels of semi-precious metal with a vast embroidered skirt and a gigantic drape prevented me from peeping deep into her soul, she was nothing less than elegant.

I had never seen her before; these nomads weren’t regular it was after a decade this particular tribe had descended from the abode of death and silence. I became fervid by just glancing at her curves and succumbed to ever intoxicating infatuation.

Our time as you know was next to nature, nested in mud houses we never fussed about the vices rather worshipped the virtues, I was a hawker and dealt in trinkets and symbols of celebration to the young women nearby, my father died years back when I was 17 and since then I had to give up my frivolities and take the tiring job of selling trinkets, I wasn’t easy to bid adieu to my friends. Every morning I saw them playing carelessly without me and I used to pass by to sell a deal, how heartless of those young adolescents to forget me forever, left with my mom and 3 sisters I had a monstrous onus of running a family and earning a livelihood.


By that time my sisters were married and as I was the youngest, I had time to save some wealth to hide our poverty for my wife to come. At that tender age of 19, I was far beyond my age with a distinct perspective and ambition, but when I saw Sindhura I forgot all my woes and foes and was driven away into vast books of memories that took my sleep and tranquillity forever.

Soon the village Abdullahpur became my pilgrimage and I did all my tasks early with an undivided spirit in order to spend more time there. The banjaras adapted to the village as if their own, tents of shades rendered an eloquent vibrance to the erstwhile monotonous village, there was one man that headed the tribe named Sangha, he was built strong and never slept at night to take care of loved ones, some other man followed him in the campaign while a majority of women earned revenue. They were into an array of jobs from mending utensils to sewing sheets, dresses, drapes, mattress covers to singing folk music and dancing to entertain others and propagate their heritage. The banjaras turned the village into a carnival of life, jubilance and culture.

One pleasant day I managed to grab some moments from the clock and got some utensils from home to get them mended,

“Hey Das, what are they for?” asked Rukmini Dai

“Not for sale, I want to get them mended”

“Oh! From the newcomers?”

“Perhaps!”

“When have you planned to get married?”

“No idea Dai”

“I have a seen a girl for you, she is a princess wants me to send the proposal?”

“Why would a princess marry me?”

“You are handsome, you have a good business even in this recession and moreover you are sincere and honest”

“This business is not good”

“Thank God for gifting you this, most of the people of your age are sitting at home making nothing, you got 3 sisters married and will keep your wife very happy”

“But”

“Believe me, I have seen more than you”

“I want some time”

“Sure, whenever you are done, knock on my door”

I smiled and went on, Rukmini Dai giggled and I could hear her murmuring some chants. Rukmini was the queen of Abdullahpur, she was insanely well off and thus everybody hailed her but she never let her credence fall on those greedy folks but she trusted me and this made me believe that she was really wise and experienced in life, she was a widow and lived life on her terms and nobody loved for this fact, while the other widows lived without hair and without good food, she wore attires of silk, wore cosmetic and adorned herself with imported jewels. Rukmini Dai has many estates and she enjoyed the wealth of his father, but how she multiplied it nobody knows people said that she was a harlot but I believed she wasn’t,

As soon the entered the carnival I was astonished to see Sindhura coming to me, she was master of her art and within a second took the utensils from me and sat down near the stove to mend it, I crouched before her and stared at her engrossed in her work, this time she had no veil and her body looked as ethereal as an idol, her breasts were elaborate and face was dunned, she caught my eye and bit her lip, her gestures and scrupulous actions made me drown in fantasy, this was the first I felt love and got immersed in it completely,

“Sahib! It is done”

“Oh! You made them even prettier just like you” she hid her face as soon as I admired her, I became afraid as a man jumped out as soon as I spoke the words, maybe he heard them

“Sahib! Kindly join us tonight at the festival?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Everybody is coming we will be happy to have you?”

“Sure,” I said in surprise, such a sudden invitation was not expected from them

It took me a lot of time to persuade my mother to let me go, and finally, she agreed when I told her about the proposal Dai was talking about. Her obsession with marriage was way more than respect for my choices. But life isn’t a happy ending always thus an unknown apprehension kept on pushing me back while I approached the village, but my senses were not coordinating as I would get to spend more time with Sindhura, I was afraid that what if it is a trap and the men want to beat me for flirting with their women but I was complacent that he must have not heard what I said.

I was stunned to see acute insanity near the camp, there was nobody to be seen anywhere. My premonitions stung me harder but it was too late, I took a step forward and then another. The sight of campfires, dark tents and chilly winds made it gothic and then I heard a moan, and then it followed another, I tried to concentrate and maintain composure but every time the sound made my heart soar and pound, I reached Sindhura’s tent and my hands shivered to open the curtains, but I had to do it,


Lying on her mattress a naked Sindhura was weeping and Alok the village chief tightened his loincloth and smiled at me, he patted my back and pushed me in. The smell of illegitimacy conjured up the tent and I fell on my knees and I cried endlessly. The carnival that gifted the life to others in the day turned into a lusty devil at night, Sindhura’s thighs were red and my eyes too, I draped her in white, and embraced her head with my tears,

“You are not meant to be here, leave, this place will destroy your innocence, forever and that sense of guilt will never let you be happy, leave now”

As soon I tried to leave, that same man came near me and I had to drop the money in his hand. Even though I didn’t want to I somehow dealt with her. And while I could catch my breath and senses, I had already covered a lot of distance. I left my bicycle over there.

I didn’t go to Abdullahpur till the trees lost their colour, but that evening the sky turned amber and I knew that the gusts that were rising from the west meant that the caravan was leaving, by the time I could reach there to say goodbye they were gone. Rukmini Dai sent one of her servants to fetch me to her mansion, sitting on her royal couch she was smoking hukkah and a courtesan was dancing to please her, the resonating cymbals, bells and dholaks got disturbed by my arrival,

“Welcome, Das”

“Dai, how can I help you?”

“Sindhura gave me something to take care of, I was waiting for you all the time and now when he saw you, he called you here, well sit here and have some water”

I was stunned to see my bicycle in the courtyard, I knew what Dai was talking about “You can’t claim what has been sold” she said while I was leaving

“Kindly send my proposal” were my last words,

Dai stopped me and came closer, her eyes were wet and she pointed out towards the sun that was sinking, “Everything has an end” she said

“Then you married Grandma?” jumped Rony

“Yes, and she completed my life and got me all the prosperities”

“Does she know about your forbidden love?”

“She often asked me about the painting that hung in the lobby”

“That painting with a woman in white?”

“Yes! And I said it was ‘the mourning goddess’

“So, what I had been knitting about your world was a lie?”

“Truth and lie are a matter of convenience, this world was never good or bad all these elements have existed even in the oldest mythological context and even in your generation, what I want to teach you is the lesson of optimism and eternal love, what you have loved once can never leave your mind just like the god, and in order to live happily you have to let go, this world keeps going nothing should stop”

“Rather we should make it a better place”

“Yes, my son, you are smart!”

“You ever met her again?”

“That is up to your imagination”

“Grandpa did you never long for your father’s time?”

“I did and then he told me this story”

And Das chuckled and kissed Rony, who in his mind was left thinking about all of this again, but this time with a ray of hope and a conviction to consume this world with its perfection he slept to wake up on his 17th birthday. He might have changed his thinking about the wonderland of his grandfather but the joy it had given him can never be snatched.


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