Spittle thrown at sky Short Story ==============

Animesh Babu always wore a smile. A gentle wave of contentment seemed to play upon his face at all times. After retiring from government service, he had returned from the city to his village. A little away from his ancestral village, Sabideipur, he built a small house inside a garden and began living a life of quiet renunciation. Five years earlier, his life companion had left him alone and departed for the other world. His only son, Prashant, worked as a chartered accountant in a large company in New Jersey, USA.

Once, during a visit to the village, I happened to meet Animesh Babu. In such a vast world, with no one close by, how could a completely solitary man remain so cheerful? I was amazed and asked him, “Brother, how do you pass your time all alone?” Animesh Babu replied, “In this world, even amid crowds, loneliness grips people’s hearts. But I—look at me—I have the noisy companionship of my flowering plants. There are dogs, cats, pigs, and goats bustling around. Every morning when I go to the pond, my fish and turtles wait eagerly for the grains from my hand. In the cowshed, the cows wait for me to feed them grass. Morning and evening, Radha and Krishna wait in the temple for offerings from my hands. Tell me then—how am I alone?” Listening to his way of life filled me with joy. While asking about the well-being of his son Prashant, I said, “Brother, why don’t you go and live with your son? You would pass your days comfortably. I hear he works in a very big company there and has ample wealth.Ofcourse what can one say about children of the present generation ? They remain absorbed in their own interests—who really cares about parents?”

 After remaining silent for a while, Animesh Babu aske me"dont you think nowadays, it has become a bad habit of our generation to blame the younger ones? Not everyone is bad. When my son’s education began, I denied him even a little freedom to play and told him, ‘Prashant, you must stand first in your class.’ To make me happy, he studied day and night. I took pride everywhere in his success, puffing out my chest. I encouraged him to push himself harder, even urged him to pursue an MBA at IIM Ahmedabad. He always acted according to my wishes.

 “When he got a big job in America, I claimed the credit and walked with pride. Whenever I praised ‘my son,in reality I was  praising myself, not him. After educating him so much, if I complain that he didn’t understand right and wrong by staying close to me, wouldn’t that be injustice to him?

 “When my wife died, my son came to the village with his wife to perform the last rites. Hurt by what people said in the village, he came to me deeply distressed and said, ‘Baba, I will leave my job and return to the village, cultivate land, and never let you live alone.

“I asked him then, ‘Why did I teach you the 'Karma Yoga' of the Bhagavad Gita? One should use one’s expertise for the welfare of the world. You studied accounting with such effort—will you now do farming, out of parental attachment? Who put this foolish idea in your head?’ My daughter-in-law, a sensible woman, listened and then said, ‘Baba, then you must come with us to New Jersey. There is no question of leaving you alone.
 I agreed on one condition: if I didn’t like it there, I would return. They agreed, and I went with them. “But there, one month felt like a year. After my son and daughter-in-law left for office, I sat inside the house, lamenting like an exile. I never liked watching television much—how many 'prarthana channels' can one watch? The open air of the village, the garden trees, the pond, fish and turtles, the evening lamps of the Radha-Krishna temple—all haunted me and made me restless. Finally, one day I requested my son and daughter-in-law to free me from that captive life. “They booked my return ticket. When I reached here, I felt like a bird released into the open sky. By spending the materialistic life of America, I truly realized the value of solitude; that is why this life no longer feels lonely.

“I have no complaints about my son or daughter-in-law. I do not expect any money from them either.Ofcourse my son has arranged everything here for me. Two people work in the house and garden; one cooks. My son bears all their expenses. He has instructed me that after my death, all my immovable property should be willed to the village old-age home, because he has already taken permanent citizenship there.

 “The villagers’ hearts are full of affection for me, because I stand by everyone in good and bad times. So what if my only son lives in America—the entire village is my sons and daughters. When I die, hundreds will come forward to carry my bier.

If one knows the art of living, life becomes sweet. Today, those who have left the village do not even utter its name again. Doctors, engineers, IAS officers—all build homes in cities and lose themselves in the glitter of City life. Life imprisoned in drawing rooms seems better to them than life under the village’s open sky—let it be, but if people dont repay the debt of their soil, would they be truly human.?”
At that time, I stayed in the village for ten days. Animesh Babu’s popularity overwhelmed me—everyone spoke of him with admiration.

Two years passed. One day, suddenly, I received the news that Animesh Babu was gone. I went to the village to attend his tenth-day rites. I searched for his son Prashant to exchange a few words, but heard that he had not come. A nephew of Animesh babu was performing the rituals. Curious about Prashant’s absence, I asked the reasons.One of their relatives took me aside and said, “Prashant had no face to come here. When the old man went to New Jersey, the daughter-in-law would drink every day and abuse him. The son said nothing to his wife. One day after getting drunk, she pushed the old man out of the house. By the kindness of someone from our side, he somehow managed to buy a ticket and return to the village. After coming back, he never spoke ill of his son or daughter-in-law to anyone. If you spit upwards, it falls back on your own face—that’s what he believed. He always praised his son and daughter-in-law. “He had already transferred all his property to the old-age home. After hearing this, the son grew even worse. Before the father could disown him, he disowned the father. The old man hid everything so well that if the son had come to perform the rites, nothing would have come out. But the son did not even allow the father’s household secrets to be carried along with him.”

I was stunned to hear this. Whatever people may say, he had a great paternal heart at which I bowed my head.The way he swallowed the poison, like Neelkantha, to protect his son’s honour was really great.

 © Kulamani Sadangi