KESARI SAFFRON

The era of 1900's when the Indian Independence movement started its momentum. The echoes of Vande Mataram resonated, almost everywhere, in every narrow lanes of India and specifically in Mumbai (then known as Bombay). That day was his execution day .

"Vande Mataram." He said proudly and kissed the hangman noose. Then there was eerie silence. His body was taken from gallows. Before handing over the remains to his family, it was the duty of the jail officer to check his belongings. Richard Hughes was the officer in charge. The jail sepoy placed the belongings of the executed man on his table. It was his monotone duty which made Richard mentally lethargic. Though, Richard was a very responsible and valiant English officer, absolutely honest with his East India Company, he never believed in capital punishment. In a deep melancholy, he studied the belongings.

Sun had set down the horizon, twilight passed in his room and the pale stars couldn't dazzle Richard's somber mind. The night was dark and gloomy. In that gleam of twilight Richard Hughes saw her. She was his wife. Her photo was among the other belongings. For a moment, the time stood still and then Richard felt his blood pulsing under his skin like wild-fire.

"Marvelous!!!! What a grandeur piece of God's creation!!!!!. " He gasped with delight. She was a perfect blend of innocence and intelligence. Her face radiated pristine spark. Black kajal applied on her big eyes, small diamond nose ring on that tiny nose and perfectly carved pink lips, Richard was smitten by her beauty. With heavy heart, he ordered his subordinate to make arrangements to give the remains and belongings to the man's family members, respectfully.

That night Richard couldn't sleep. Her face disturbed his sleep. As if those button black eyes were telling him something. They wanted something from him. Yes, it was vulnerability of hers which made Richard's heart ache. She was a widow now and somehow the East India Company was responsible for this. He felt a strong desire to meet her. Next morning, his enthralling brown eyes and manly stubble got embodied with low waist line stable jacket, black trouser and as Richard walked towards her home, he looked like a fierce handsome tiger.

The sight at her home was nasty and quite horrid. Richard saw her cladded in pure white sari. Her long lustrous hair swaying over her face with the blow of wind. The windy day, was about to see union of two unorthodox soul, poised to renounce the conventional norms. Unexpectedly to Richard, the most barbaric act breezed in. As the barber was about to cut her hair Richard unknowingly said "STOP.. STOP..."

Everyone gazed at him including her. Tears flowing from her eyes added more sensuality to her personality.

"Why not??? The tears should surely flow." Richard thought. Just because she has lost her husband doesn't mean she should lose her beauty. Aware of this weird ritual , Richard shouted authoritatively:

"It's against the British Law. "

"Sahib Sati is abolished. This is not sati. We are just cutting her hair........" One man said quickly.

"Let us atleast do one ritual according to our belief ." The other said.

"O O this is your belief? Senselessly, cutting such beautiful hair." Richard was quivering with anger.

"Sir she has lost her wish to look beautiful ."

"Who gave you all the authority to decide for her? Let her decide. She has right to retain her beauty. "

Richard's eyes were roving all over when he saw her. Her wide eyes were fixed on him. Besides her were heap of English literature books. She ran towards him and knelt on Richard's feet.

"Sahib let them cut my hair but they shouldn't burn my books. They are going to burn my books. " She covered her hands on her face and started sobbing.

"Stop this tamasha right away, otherwise I have to take strict action. " He said and ordered the mob gathered to move out of her home. Slowly the crowd disbursed murmuring utter disappointment. His hands went to touch her shoulders but something stopped him from touching her.

"You study English??" He asked her in surprise. She looked up and nodded subtly.

"How come ???" He asked again. The fact that she was student of English literature was stupendous.

"My father made me study English. He said its very important to know the language of your enemy. My father was a freedom fighter and your English men killed him. You killed my husband too. Now what do you want from me??? " She puffed narrowing her eyes.

There was a sort of boldness in her with which Richard got instantly attracted. She was not a demure kinda person.

"So you hate the English people Ahhh.."

"No I don't. This struggle for independence doesn't bother me. That I am a widow doesn't hit me either ."

"Then what bothers you?"

"The fact that I will not be able to study English language. I am in love with this language. To be precise I love all languages. " She suddenly went inside her home and brought a wooden box.

"I write poems too. Secretly though. " She gave Richard the wooden box full of her poetries.

Completely dumbstruck with her Richard asked her name.

"Sahib my name is Radha. Can you keep my poetry collections with you. The villagers can come anytime to destroy them." Her eyes exhibited a plea for help. Completely awestruck, Richard mounted his horse and headed towards work.

He waited for the night to fall when no birds would be heard , when everyone would be asleep and then he would read out her poems to himself. It was a mesmerizing night and the breeze blew with powerful passion as Richard scattered her poems all over his bed. Then one piece of paper blew like a falling leaf and Richard rushed to collect it as though it was a treasured possession.

He read the first :

This is my life;

For him love for land is above the love for wife,

When one has breath and life

while the other contrariwise;

I need love from you

Atleast glance at me when you say good bye

That night when my sari was new and red

For your freedom struggle you headed

My heart feels unloved

I feel untouched

The thirst of my lips is parched

With your dry heart.

Then came the second:

No no you are not my lover

You only conspire

How to get rid of me

Days pass by and nights haunts in silence

My heart yearns in shyness

For a love eternal and timeless

Do you understand my heart also beats

I have feelings too

If you don't love me

Then.....

How can I love you??

I am feeling blue, I am feeling blue...

Her poetic style was sincere and freely expressed. Radha had poured her emotions in her poetics. Her pain and feelings intricately twisted together. For the first time, Richard felt the struggle of the East India Company and Indian fighters futile. Love was brutally tortured in this clash of power and the catastrophic destruction would be felt both ways.

Gradually it dawned and it was dawn of love. He was in love with Radha. His reverie was disturbed by a knock on the door. Richard's servant gave him a letter from the British government. It was about the new government measure to control plague disease. Apart from isolation camps the British government were going to burn houses as sanitation measures to control the disease. Normally the letter would have been of frugal importance. But today it was not. The sight of Radha's home being burnt flared in front of him and he galloped towards her home.

Radha, who was cleaning the garden area shivered at his sight. She rushed towards him and covered her face with her sari pallu.

"Sir why did you come ? Please go immediately as the villagers will question my chastity." Richard knew that this visit would be awkward for her.

"Your house can be burnt. Please come with your luggage near St.Martin's church at sharp eight. I will meet you at the main gate. "

"How can I trust you? " She asked.

"You have to trust me Radha because I love you." Richard himself was amazed with his off-the- cuff proposal. Radha completely ashamed with the sudden proposal ran inside her home. Richard awkwardly left the place unable to fathom his impulsive expression.

Radha kept her trunk loaded with clothes on the bed. She wondered about the audacity with which Richard proposed her. The three little words "I love you" embedded in her mind deeply. Her heart was filled with immense joy. A sweetness of obscure sensation pierced through her skin rekindling old desires. However, abruptly the wrinkles from her joyous smile faded. She couldn't believe that she was happy. The concern, the love she craved from her patriotic husband was oozed by an enemy soldier. Was it real or Richard just wanted to fulfill his lust and physical needs. Radha had heard the plight of young girls falling prey to wicked British soldiers. Also, she would be considered a traitor. She would be burnt alive if the villagers came to know that she ran with a British soldier . She, who was a widow of a patriotic person.

But Richard's eyes exuded fragrance of true love. A love which was meant only for her.

"O Radha its your duty to live a life of widow. "She said to herself. What about the duty to oneself? Isn't it our duty to feel happy and cherish the moment which gives you happiness? It was a bold decision as she decided to trust her instinct. Radha quietly sneaked out of her home. She had covered her face with saffron sari' s pallu. She purposely wore coloured sari as a token of breaking the barriers of society .

The church was on the other side of the bridge and the roadway was planted with young corn plants. She saw Richard was standing near the gate. She paused and gave a sigh of relief for not being cheated. Richard had made arrangements at an outhouse nearby the church. It was a small room concealed from the eyes of the villagers.

Richard saw Radha sitting in complete silence.

"Don't worry. I will not betray you. "

"Why ??Why are you doing this for me?"

"Because I love you. " He said once again. He moved towards her. The shades of night had scattered light in the room and Radha's face sparkled in the sparkles of moonlight. Her hair seemed a dense jungle of passion. Richard moved his hands over her hair softly and whispered in her ears:

"How can I let such beautiful hair barbered?" He gave her an amorous look. Radha shivered with his presence. He was very close to her and she could hear his heart beating rapidly. Radha felt that her heart was pounding wildly. Their rhythmic heart beats created a beautiful love choir. Then Richard went close to her and the perfume of their subtle breath created a mesmerizing effect. He gripped her waist and held her close. For few moments the atmosphere was humid with desire. Then, Richard stopped and gradually loosened his grip. He let Radha free.

His stop gave a classic dignity to his love. His love for Radha reached the divinity because it was Richard who stopped the romance. That moment, Radha's heart melted. Melted the way snow melts from Himalayas and cool refreshing water flows from its tips.

"Tomorrow you will sail with me to England. You will complete your education in England. Will you marry me ??" He knelt and proposed her with a red rose.

Radha pinched herself to check whether she was dreaming. This was something beyond anyone's imagination. She accepted the rose and Richard took it as an affirmation.

Next day, Radha dressed up as an English lady. She wore a straw hat, pink floral frock with satin lace on the waist line. She made her hair the way 'the Memsaheb' did. She looked beautiful. Her happiness was out of the world. With great zeal she left the cottage and headed secretly to the seaport. It was a walk of twenty minutes. Her legs were marching towards the port and there was a profound dazzle in her eyes. But her tempo stopped and she left as if someone held her hands tightly. She didn’t dared to turn back to see and see who it was. For that moment Radha felt she would never meet Richard. Then she heard her husband's voice.

"So you are leaving your birth country for him?" Radha shivered with his voice. Until now she never thought she was doing something wrong. She never felt she did anything wrong. What was so wrong in this relationship? But her husband's words pounded on her ears, heart and mind with disgrace. For that moment she felt cheap.

Am I wrong? Am I wrong to dream a happy life? A life where my desires will be fulfilled. Am I wrong to move ahead and complete my education? Am I wrong to feel love , to experience the beauty of love just because it is forbidden by the society. Yes the same society who were about to torture my body, mind and soul. How can my love be forbidden when it gives me immense pleasure.

She plucked up courage and looked back because she wanted an answer. There was no one. It was her inner voice questioning. Without thinking even for a second, she merrily paced towards the seaport to live a life full of love and a life which she deserved to live. She got the desired freedom.

Richard was standing with a red rose. He gifted her the rose. Radha hugged him tightly and said

A rose is a rose is a rose ,

Similarly ...

Love is love is love is love,

Howsoever unusual it is...