....The Homecoming

The panchayat was over and Lakhanlal Singh sat under the banyan tree in a wooden sofa with a thoughtful face,smoking the hookah,circles of smoke twirled around with gargling sound, he was half laid.

Maniklal,his assistant was busy giving him a massage.Things were not well with Kashipur village,in the last 2 years there had been hardly any harvest,the river in which the farmers were dependent slowly and gradually started drying off,over and above their had been scarcity of rain,to make it worsen there rose a plague due to which the cattle fell sick and started to die,even though the Sarpanch and the panchayat had run from door to door of the MLAs,MPs,collectors etc for help,there had been no much of help.The irrigation department sat with their hands tied,the canals could not be constructed due to the ongoing disputes for water.Even there were other risks.Wells were dug but the water level remain very low and during summers dried off.

As a whole the situation was dreaded.The farmers could not grow sufficient crops,above that they were indebted to heavy loans.The common men could not run their household.

Lakhanlal Singh a very honest and pious man wanted his villagers to over come the situation.

He stood up,"Maniklal,I am going for a round in the village,let your madam know it."

He walked off slowly.

It was late February however still the chilling air blew across the field,Lakhanlal wraped his shawl around himself tight.Few farmers sat beside the dried furrows smoking bidis trying to cope up with their issues and sorting something amongst themselves.When they saw their Sarpanch,with their folded hands they walked towards him.Lakhanlal had no words as he knew his words of sympathy won't help them,after a short conversation Lakhanlal took along side the path with strides.He still could not understand who can help him.It was getting dark,the bells from the old village temple rang,the aarti was offered to the Gods and Godessess at dusk and the rituals were performed.

The sound of the bells and cronches transported him to his childhood,the sun had set,but the western sky looked reddish.....in few days the most awaited festival of spring would arrive...."Holi- the festival of colours".

Sounds of laughter and happy cries filled the air.It was Holi.Kashipur was always busy during Holi.The village temple had the Radha Krishna deities which was supposed to be almost 150 year old and were worshiped with great joy and auspisiousness.

The festival was celebrated with grandeur.Lakhanlal's father was the Sarpanch way back then.Early in the morning,the deities were taken to the river for a bath and then decorated in colourful clothes,flowers,garlands,different kinds of sweets were offered then the villagers would play with colours,gulal,with pickaris would splash water on each other.When pickaris would give ways,they would even drench each other in coloured water in buckets.

Those were the days,Lakhanlal and Kishanlal would run about the entire village greeting everyone in greed of getting different sweets and filling their tummy to the fullest.Every villagers loved them,they were the most notorious children but the cutest ones.They would then return home drenched in various colours in the afternoon and would get tight scolding from their mother who would scrub them to remove the colours until their flesh would peel off their body.

Suddenly a smile spread across Lakhanlal's face and in a second was erased.Kishan,his dear brother,he had not come back.

The argument rose upon the property after the death of their father.There was no difference of opinion when they were children,but when they grew up,the greed,envy,cruelty spread their arms to embrace Kishan.He always wanted to stay away from this village,he did not turn around and come back to this village even when their mother died.It was almost 26 years ago.

Kishanlal might not have taken any notice or news of his brother,but Lakhanlal was always inquisitive about him,he even tried contacting him,but the later refused,such were their terms.Kishan hated his brother.

Kishanlal's life had taken a 360 degree turn.He was now a business tycoon,had big share holds,he was now equipped with manpower,finance and a stable family.He married an NRI and had a daughter.He was now counted as one of the richest man in the country"KS" .

Lakhanlal was aware.He wanted to bless his family but he was escorted out as a stranger!

He walked back slowly to his home.His sons and wife were waiting for him at dinner.With an upset face,Lakhanlal said that he was not hungry,his wife understood his feelings and took his dinner to his room.To kick start a conversation,she said,"You know Lakshmi came in today to borrow some money in exchange for a gold earing,I didnot take it....instead I gave her some amount that you gave me last Diwali,did I do it correctly?"

Lakhanlal smiled,if his wife would not have been in his life,he would have been heart broken.She had always been a support for him even in odd times.During this time when people need their help how can they turn away their faces.

He could have easily went to his brother who now owned a good position in politics too to get a solution for his village,he even went in....but came back empty handed.

The future of the village seemed feeble.

Since Kishan left the village Lakhanlal had never played Holi.

Holi is the festival of colours,it nurtures your relationships,brings you closer to each other, a festival of happiness and joy and oneness.But his happiness was only at his brother's return.

The festival this year was not to be celebrated with pompous,the plague had outburst.The flu had started affecting human beings and dreadfully made them either numb,paralysed or death was the last option.

The river,the villagers were depended upon was getting polluted.The well water was the only source that remained.Things took a drastic turn.

Lakhanlal decided to take some step,he could not look at the villagers with courage.But what could he do?

Life always takes tests of good people,it always takes a turn.

A batch of medical students visited at the request of the gram panchayat as there were no adequate medicines and food for the sick people.They brought with them medical facilities and proper hygiene techniques.

A doctor,Rajni was not only quite good at her work but took care of her patience genuinely.Lakhanlal after learning her determination towards her work grew fond of her.He would treat her as his own daughter,he never had one.

An eternal relationship grew between them in few days.While conversation Lakhanlal came to know she was from a renowned college and perhaps rich,to which she smiled as said,"I got through a scholarship".She was intelligent and amiable.She had the knack to learn everything. When she heard about the Holi celebration she was overjoyed but was remorseful when she heard that the villagers would not celebrate Holi due to lack of money and the plague.Lakhanlal even shared his childhood memories with her and the situation when he had to let his brother go out of the village.He had great compassion toward this girl in few days!

Then the dreadful night came...while serving the villager the plague started attacking the medical students,they were scared,more medicines were asked for....ambulances came,special doctor came.....the plague started to widespread.....the medical students were boarded in the ambulance and taken away.....Lakhanlal tried to contact Dr. Rajni and get her where about but in vain....no one was able to give her address or contact details.....

Slowly and gradually the villagers lost hope...the plague would eat away every one in the village....no one would be alive,they had befallen to curse.....Lakhanlal had no trust in future now...all was to finish...then like a boon , the heaven's doors were opened and came in the doctors,proper treatment,vaccinations,food everything.

A year passed by since the dreadful plague had over powered the village,things were reversing to normal.Still the village remained remorseful,the plague had not only take toll on their health but wealth too.

Once again,on the day of Holi, the village temple was decorated beautifully with flowers,garlands, fragrance of incense and frankincense filled the air.The palash flowers blossomed on every tree,the gulal coloured the sky red.....there was happiness in every house.The temple was decorated again,the deities of Radha and Krishna were decorated in new clothes,gold ornaments, flowers,garlands etc.

The village of Kashipur was once again chirping joyously.....

There was a knock on the door.....it awoke Lakhanlal from the beautiful dream,he usually is an early riser though.

Who could have come to his house so early in the morning?

With a distress full face he went to open the door.His elder son Kishorilal,had just wrapped round a towel on his waist and with a neem brush was brushing his teeth....he had opened the door ajar and stood in front of the entrance talking to the visitor.

Kishorilal's wife was drawing water from the well,on seeing her father inlaw drew her veil down.

In a moment Kishorilal,turned to go to his father who was walking past the porch.....his eye fell on a black suitcase his son was carrying and while walking a little closer towards the door,he stood there shocked..

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Dr. Rajni was taken back to the city with the plague,the most expensive treatments were provided to her but in vain.

Before death Rajni,who found out that his father was Lakhanlal's brother,wished that her father should forget all that had happened in the past and go back to his brother who loved him so dearly and still awaited his arrival and ask for forgiveness.

Kishanlal's daughter was his life and so he could not deny her last wish.

He returned to the village....and asked for his brother's forgiveness......who embraced him with all his heart held out to him....tears rolled down his eyes as he met his little brother after such a long time....the wounds of their relationship was healed.

Lakhanlal had forgiven every pain that his brother had given him....his love for his brother had made him forget everything.

The only thing that he would remain guilty about that he could do nothing to save Rajni,she was the daughter of Kishanlal and hence Lakhanlal felt so compassionate towards her...destiny....

It was Holi again..the village temple was decorated beautifully with flowers,garlands, fragrance of incense and frankincense filled the air.The palash flowers blossomed on every tree,the gulal coloured the sky red.....there was happiness in every house.The temple was decorated again,the deities of Radha and Krishna were decorated in new clothes,gold ornaments, flowers,garlands etc.

The village of Kashipur was once again chirping joyously and rejoiced at the homecoming of its long lost son....