Golden Coin

A villager who was born in ascending years of the second decade of the nineteenth century came with his family to small-town for the job and education of the children. It was impossible to save money for future planning depending on income from the limited land. His elder brother and some companion were in the same village. His elder brother took care of the farming land. He was doing a job in a private bank. Fortune favours the bold. Fortunately, all private banks get nationalized. He and his friends were fond of travelling before coming to the town, they were known as pilgrims in their area. They had been to various tourist as well as religious places. They used to plan frequently to see some more new places in different areas of the country.

Some local friends also joined the group in the town. Being educated, he used to write-ins and outs all information about the seen places during his journey with his companion. His home became the famous information centre for knowing the all required information for new travellers. Those tourists who were planning to go somewhere to see tourist places from the town. Before beginning their journey, they used to meet him to gather the required information and instruction for the happy journey. He used to tell them all routes of rail and bus, shelter home for tourist, most important places to be seen with its importance as per their scheduled plan. In fact, he was not a religious-minded man at all. He believed in the power that governs the whole universe. But, he went to see all famous religious places whose importance is found in our cultural and religious epics as well as other books. When I was grown, might be in the fourth class, he asked me to come with them for the north Indian tour. All his companion, my elder father and a few local friends began their north Indian tour with us. I was very excited to travel by super trains and tourist places of the motherland.

On the first leg, we went to Agra. We saw the famous fort and Tajmal. But my father captured information regarding some new, very fine art structure that was under construction in Agra city. It was known as Shiv Dayal Sahib’s memorial about 15 kilometres away from the city. Rome wasn’t built in a day. We went there to see the monuments under construction which were been constructed for the last sixty-five years and would continue for the next thirty-five years. The longest mile is the last mile home. The project would get completed within hundred years. We had seen its complete model. It would be one of the wonders of the world in future. Then we reached Delhi, Haridwar, Rishikesh. All these tourist places are situated in hilly areas rather than on plain land. The distance between Haridwar and Rishikesh is nearly 20 kilometres. There is a hanging bridge over the Ganga basin for crossing the banks of the river, known as Lakshaman jhoola. The route of Kedarnath was really a very zig-zag which was made by cutting the mountains. It was a very narrow road where one-way traffic was allowed during the daytime only. All of sudden, I was under the weather, when we reached a hilly station known Hirakund. Hirakund is sandwiched between Rishikesh and Kedarnath. We had to go on foot to Kedarnath from Hirakund at that time. Desperate times call desperate measures. My father took me to the doctor. He told to him that his son was suffering from a viral infection due to changing climate. The whole team was about to proceed on the next day to Kedarnath. My father talked to the doctor about their scheduled plan. He said to him that he could not take me with him. He suggested that he could keep me under his supervision there only. He and his team would go to Kedarnath and come back as per plan. He would look after him. He assured him that his son would be okay by that time positively. Great minds think alike. My father kept me there under his supervision. The whole team went to the Kedarnath to worship God.

My father was of the opinion, whenever someone gets an opportunity to see something. He should go, otherwise, time would never permit him to see it again as the early bird catches the worms. If someone thinks, when everything would be favourable to him, then he would go for travelling. That favourable time would never come back again as time and tide wait for no man. The whole team reached the Kedarnath temple and come back. Fortune favours the bold, by that time, I recovered from the sickness. Then we went to another holy place. It was Badrinath Dham. After a successful journey to north India, we come back to our native place. All his friends then went back to their village.

When I was fallen ill, on next day I felt better after taking medicine. I had spare time even after taking full rest. Then I searched the father’s bag for something. Then I found a diary in which my father noted down all things about the places seen during the journey. Action speaks louder than words. When we came back, I had seen on each Sunday, My father used to write all those information about the journey. Generally, after completion of his tour, he used to write-ins and outs information in his copy. He used to purchase the catalogue at the tourist places of historic buildings and monuments. He used to paste them at proper places in the dairy. He was a regular reader of newspapers. if something is published about known tourists and religious matters, then he cut down that cutting and paste it in the diary where related matter already exists. He visited all four Dhams and twelve Jyotirlig and so many almost all important places in India In his entire life. He also visited Nepal and neighbouring countries. He pasted the currency note of Nepal along with his photograph which was hung on the wall for viewers. whenever somebody comes to our home, he used to see it with very anxiety.

I had observed about him, whenever he got an opportunity to see new places without thinking much of home problem, he used to go there. He was of the firm opinion if someone missed that chance, then chance would never come again easily. He asked me and his other sons so many times that He would like to travel by air once in his life. He was ready to pay the amount, but none of us could not fulfil his will. Nowadays, all his entire family members of the succeeding generation only travelled by air but he is more with us !.

When he retired from the job, he had plenty of time. He rewrote all those things again with the latest information in his spare time. Due to old age, his writing was not so clear and readable to the readers. There was no computer for preparing the soft copies of his valuable writings at his age. Nobody from the family paid much more importance to it. When he kicked the bucket, no body cared about his valuable written literature. Haste makes waste. All his written dairies were eaten by white ants. But his youngest son had a lot of time due to retirement, he felt guilty for not taking proper care of his father’s writings. Head and feet keep warm the rest will take no harm. If he would have paid some attention to his dedicated work, it would have taken a shape of a wonderful book as willful waste makes woeful want. One man’s junk is another man’s treasure. Perhaps, he would have saved it, then he would have plenty of material for writing books for the readers. He thought that he had lost the gold coin along with readers. He felt shameful as he couldn’t be the worthy custodian of his father's dedicated work.