Epitome Of Love

I came to know about a very interesting folk story during my posting at Tekanagar, some 15 years ago. The day is still fresh in my memory when I had set my foot for the first time at the suburban town. My subordinate, Triloknath Sharma, had come to receive me at the small, desolate station. He then took me to the miniature of a bungalow, allotted to me by the government. It took me no time to bond with the ever-smiling, frank and friendly Sharma. After settling down in my new home, Sharma took me out to show around.

After walking for a short distance, we halted at the bank of a river.

"Come, sir," Sharma said as his eyes shone with excitement, "let me show you a marvelous piece of art."

"Fine," I readily obliged his wish and accompanied him.

After walking a little distance on the sandy bank, Sharma stopped abruptly.

"Look, sir," Sharma pointed his finger at something far ahead as he grinned, "it's over there."

I looked in the direction of his finger and saw a beautifully sculptured marble statue of a gorgeous lady.

"Who is she?" I asked, my eyes riveted to the statue.

"Yamini," Sharma sighed as his smile waned away.

"Who is Yamini?" I finally turned to look at Sharma.

"There is a folk story that is famous among the people of this region. And she is one of the protagonists of the story."

"What is it about?" The love for stories bubbled within me.

"It's the love story of Yamini and Nishant. Do you want to listen?" The witty Sharma asked rather ruefully.

"Of course," I nodded.

We settled down on the bank of the river facing the orange globe of the evening sun.

"A couple of centuries ago, there was a young and handsome man by the name, Nishant. He was a shepherd and lived in a small cottage at the opposite bank of the river with his mother Gangubai. He was her only son. Yamini, who was the daughter of a rich businessman was an epitome of beauty. No other girl could match her stunning looks. Nishant and Yamini fell in love with each other. As they were afraid of Yamini's tyrant father and his wicked goons, they used to meet each other furtively. When it was midnight, Nishant used to steal himself out of his cottage, get on a small boat and cross the river. Yamini used to wait for him at the place where her statue stands now."

"Interesting!" I rubbed my hands, "then what happened?"

"One night, Nishant's mother fell ill and he was busy taking care of her. As night advanced, Nishant craved to meet Yamini. He was sure that she must be eagerly waiting for him at the bank. There was no way he could let her know about his mother's illness. When it was midnight, Gangubai fell asleep. Nishant slipped out of the house, promising himself that he will come back soon after telling Yamini that his mother was sick and he had to take care of her. He knew that Yamini was a kind-hearted girl and will never object to it."

"Oh!" I said as Sharma halted to let out a sigh, "that's so touching."

"Nishant rushed towards Yamini and told her about his sick mother. Yamini bade him a hurried goodbye and returned to her home. But by the time, Nishant came back, he was astonished to see a huge crowd gathered around his hut. He pushed his way in through the crowd only to find his mother lying dead on her cot. His neighbors blamed him of being a negligent and stony-hearted son who had left his ailing mother to die at home so that he could meet his mistress. Nishant broke down out of guilt. He took an oath to stay by his mother's side till his last breath and never to step out of the house. He died out of thirst and hunger very soon.

"Yamini used to wait for him at the beach, night after night." Sharma took a deep breath and said, "when she came to know about Nishant's death, she drowned himself in the river."

I looked at the statue of Yamini trying to visualize her as a girl anxiously waiting for her lover to arrive.

"Nishant and his mother's tombs were made inside the hut, they had once lived." Sharma let out a dolorous sigh.

"Nishant was both a good son and an ardent lover." I was moved.

"People even say that they have seen an empty boat crossing the river, on dark, moonless nights!"