The Petunia Flower

The unfamiliar stations on a long-distance train journey have always attracted Pallav very much. The unknown hamlets consisting of roofless stations, of wild bushes and shrubs, growing out of the vermillion-colored ground, and having small attractive flowers in full bloom, dancing to the soft breeze as if inviting the butterflies to engage in a rendezvous with them lay in the core of Pallav’s enticing train journeys. The infinite meadows with occasional ponds surrounded by a train of long coconut trees often covered the background of such roofless and sometimes smaller, infamous stations. These ponds were the home ground for many ducks, most of the time hurrying to go back to their nest in the fall of dusk. The vast stretches of farms and meadows were laden with scarecrows, witnessing the rising and setting sun, along with some sporadic hay cottages. The pen picture of such stations often causes one to remember the pastoral life of Apu and Durga from ‘Panther Panchali’ but there are many examples of such smaller yet beautiful stations that are seldom visited in real life. These become the hoarder of unalloyed beauty of country life and are sparsely populated and eloquently silent, Pallav’s visit to such stations, in a way, is an escape from the din of city life providing solace to his noisily accustomed ears. 

Sitting beside the window in a sleeper class coach while returning from Pune to Kolkata, Pallav’s stream of consciousness included all these deductions. It is a homecoming both for Pallav and Sharmita because of Durga Puja, but separately. After three years of married life, both working in Delhi, one in the Bank and the other in the Software sector, they were passing their togetherness quite happily like any other newly married couple. However encompassed by their working life, by their routine visit to Kolkata- four times a year, occasional long drives, and one long trip a year, they didn’t realize that they were slowly embracing monotony-losing the euphoria of marriage after a courtship of two years. One day both of them became frantic in a constant search for newness in their married life. 

Monotony broke through a change- a change that is often undesired in the mundane psychology of human beings.

Pallav’s bank got a newly transferred candidate-Sulagna, Pallav’s ex-girlfriend from college. Sharmita’s software team invited their new team leader Aniket Srivastav from America. Apparently, these are very trifle incidents-world is a small place where these coincidences are very regular but the trifle became massive in the conjugal life of Pallav and Sharma. A few successive episodes consolidated the foundation of a very huge and strong pillar of the distance between the husband and the wife.

Suspicion, especially in nuptial bonds, is a cancerous growth- once it enters, it shows no sign of submission and finally kills the relationship with a deadly blow. This growth of suspicion between Pallav and Sharmita was catalyzed by their inability to talk about random events which often led to more dubiousness and ugly arguments. Hanging out in a coffee shop after the office or taking a lift in a colleague’s car to come to the metro station, is very wanted. But these customary incidents got shadowed by the eclipse of doubt just as the small hereditary cottages are being shadowed and uprooted by the city scrapers. 

But uncertainty invited the basic feeling of revenge, the psychology- “if you can do this, I can do this too”. Both of them failed to heed the fact that their suspicions were brewing out of nothing but imagination and assumptions and sadly the forbidden tree of doubt grew every day in both of them, drifting them apart. While trees acquired their food from sunlight and provided shadow for the benefit of mankind, the tree of suspicion in Pallav and Sharmita’s life shadowed their love in a wrong way. Gradually they lost the importance of confiding into each other, the importance of propagating the basics like “it will be late from the office” or “will not have dinner at home” and other such minute details. Even their friends started noticing their deliberate evasion of weekend trips and parties together. As a result of their much lesser socialization, they got more time for their timely night sleeps but even that too became disturbed as both of them were busy weaving the trails of unwanted notions about one another.

When such is the ambiance in the ‘once upon a time happy’ household of Pallav and Sharmita, two emails arrived, fueling the fire of separation. One divulged the invitation to Pallav’s Pune college Golden Jubilee Reunion where along with Pallav, Sulagna was invited too, and the other contained the news of Sharmita’s journey to Singapore along with team-lead Aniket and two other colleagues for a seven-month project. 

Stubbornness made Pallav acquire the ticket for Pune. He thought of asking Sharmita not to go and take the chance to amend things for one final time. He decided if Sharmita does not listen, he will let go. After all, Sharmita knows very well that Pallav would not like her journey and if she still goes, it will be an open showcasing of her denial of Pallav’s likings and dislikings. But quite contrarily, Pallav’s decision to visit his college, made Sharmita even more obstinate. As a great irony, she filled out her visa application in front of Pallav on a busy morning, before going to the office. Sharmita’s journey was made via Kolkata as she will spend her Panchami with her father who shares his birthday with the eve of Goddess Durga’s arrival. The following day, on Shashti, she will commence her flight to Singapore. 

On Mahalaya while Bhadrababu was chorusing the whole story of goddess Durga’s genesis and her fiery demolition of the dangerous demon clan-the Asuras, Sharmita left for her journey as if already marking the departure of a contemporary Durga - fiery and staccato in her resolution - crushing the snares of hopes and emotional bonding in her life.

Pallav’s loneliness made him ponder over the whole matter. Sulagna was just his college infatuation because of which he never felt the urge to contact her after college. Moreover in the present day too, he has nothing but just a classmate-familiarity with her. His decision to visit his college in Pune was more an aftermath of his own disdain, anger, and insecurity than a conscious one. He understood that he is involving himself in immaturity but in the case of emotion, everything becomes justifiable. Moreover, Sharmita’s ignorance of his silent protest against her journey made the whole move logically explanatory to him. For him, Sharmita’s journey was unnatural and after thinking about it a lot he finally decided to commence his own journey to Pune for a few days of emotional relief. 

Pallav’s thought process suddenly jerked to a halt along with the train which stopped at a smaller station named Pasandpura. This train from Pune will reach Kolkata in the Panchami evening. Pallav intentionally took a train journey to revive many of his lost childhood memories. The surrounding murmurs informed Pallav that the train is put to a halt for a few minutes in this particular station owing to the engine-changing process. Thus, Pallav stepped down into the heart of the station. The station turned out to be the exact replica of Pallav’s idyllic visions of those small and unknown distant lands, less trodden, less-crowded but with utmost beauty exhibited by Mother Nature. Pasandpura had the same vermillion-coloured paths with the same small ponds accompanied by endless meadows intercepted with peeping coconut trees and small hay cottages. Melancholia shrouded the dusk that is slowly covering the whole place and mist is embracing the sun in its cold arms. The chill in the air reminded Pallav that Durga Puja is occurring late this time. The whole platform is just populated by two people-one is a tea vendor selling tea and cigarettes and another woman selling fried nuts, sweetmeats, and knick-knacks. The halt being quite a few minutes, the chill made Pallav endeavor tea. While having tea, Pallav started chitchatting with the vendor. The tea vendor is a Muslim as has been predicted from his Tabeez and accented speech. He is a resident of the nearby village and thus his business starts early in the morning. He keeps a record of the trains that pass through the station.

“Babu, will you take fries?”

The woman interrupted their conversation and Pallav, acquiesced that fries with tea has always been an amazing combination. After selling Pallav his share of fries, the woman arranged her snacks, offered respect to the setting sun by folding her hands in ‘Pranam’, and got ready to leave. When Pallav hurried to pay her the price of the fries, the woman said, “Give it to the tea vendor, Sahib.” Now Pallav realized that they are probably partners which he previously did not notice. He paid the money to the vendor and started walking to the other side of the station. He noticed the station master coming out of his room probably after a nice daydream. Pallav realizes he cannot fathom whether this kind of life is bliss or a curse.

The stationmaster noticing him came near to catch a conversation and thus the talk started in Hindi,

“Boredom struck hard or what?”

“Nothing like that. When will the train start?”

The stationmaster replied, “Another fifteen minutes, hardly. The train stops here a few times a day. Tea at the time of dusk in this chill is the perfect way to savor the beauty, isn’t it?”

As the conversation continued, Pallav got to know that the place is located quite near the Odisha border. Many trains stop here but the important long-distance trains like Rajdhani, Satabdi, Duranta, and a few others visit Odisha without taking a halt in Pasandpura. “Have you seen the woman selling fries in the station”, the stationmaster queried suddenly, out of nowhere. 

“Sorry?”

“Didn’t you take fries from the woman, along with the tea?” the stationmaster asked Pallav.

“Yes, I did.”

“Where has she gone?”

Pallav informed the stationmaster that the woman packed her baggage and went back to her residence in the village. 

“Probably she has her rituals today. Usually, they leave together”, the stationmaster stated.

“Are they partners in business?” Pallav asked.

“Partners in business? Haha! They are the sharers of the same room even! Besides that distant pond, over there, it is quite hazy though due to the mist..anyway, over there they have their village where they live.”

“Are they married?”

“That is an obfuscated fact”, the stationmaster went on, “Rahim and Mansi appear together in the morning and leave together too. All the while during the business, they spend their time quite like a couple, pulling legs and gossiping intently. It has been almost three years since I joined but never asked them about their relationship status. After all, it is none of my business.”

After the stationmaster completed providing Pallav with the tenets of Mansi and Rahim’s life in the village, he went back to his room. But Pallav felt an increasing affinity to know more about them. He realized that it will be a clear act of violation of privacy and that an educated person will never consciously indulge in such an act, still to Pallav, the action seemed ineluctable.

“Would you like to take another cup of hot tea, Sahib?” Rahim asked, smiling when Pallav went near him and interrupted his activity of arranging his shop before shutting it down.

“No, thank you. You are leaving now, it seems. Where do you stay?” Pallav inquired.

“Over the meadows in that distant village, Sahib”, Rahim answered, smiling the same innocent smile all the while.

“You made a beautiful tea. I relished it with the peanut fries. Do you know where the lady has gone? I could have ordered some more peanut fries then.”

For the first time, the smile on Rahim’s face is replaced with a frown of worry. “Haye Khoda!” he exclaimed, “Mansi has left early today because she has her special ritual of the day. She will not touch the money until her ritual gets over. If I had known earlier, I would have made her fry some more, Sahib.”

“It is absolutely fine, Rahim, don’t worry”, and after a pause, Pallav added, “can I ask you something? Is she your wife?”

Rahim smiled enigmatically. The smile can hold innumerable assertions of ‘yes’, ‘no’, ‘probably’, and many others. The smile reminded Pallav of his own dates with Sharmita where he took refuge in the same smile when Sharmita asked something discomforting. 

“Sahib, are you asking me this question because I am a Muslim?”

Pallav shivered out of extreme embarrassment. 

“Marriage is entirely a societal façade, Sahib. I don’t see the utilities of all those societal institutions. Marriage, according to me, is just a socially accepted license for staying together, the license being sanctioned by society”, Rahim continued with a critical tone.

“Don’t you believe in marriage?” Pallav asked.

Rahim smiled a little and said, “If you want to spend a life with a person, stay together in the same house, all you need is the approval of society and that approval comes through marriage. People come into your marriage, enjoy themselves, pass critical or satisfactory remarks about the food, about every other arrangement and go away. Have you ever actually encountered an individual asking you how happy you are? How much in love are you and your better half? Nobody does that, Sahib. Nobody.”

Stunning Pallav even more with these blatant revelations, Rahim continues, “Mansi is Hindu Sahib, but she was born a Muslim, Mausam. She belongs to my childhood village and we were best friends. From my teenage years, I dreamt of marrying her and living happily ever after. After reaching adulthood, I went away to work in a factory and Mausam came here with her mother and started her fry business. The station was even smaller during those times. The stationmaster was young, handsome, and educated.” A slight pause ensued. “As is natural, they fell for each other. The stationmaster promised her that they would get married but the problem was that a Muslim woman would not be accepted in a Hindu household.”

“It has been ten to fifteen years since all these incidents. We might be considered the proletariat but the truth is that we are lesser complicated than the city people. Mausam too was blessed with a simple and innocent heart. Driven by almost blind love, she got converted to Hindu. Our village exiled her forever, calling her their enemy. She faced rebukes and isolation but she did everything for the man she loved. Until the man left her silently into the mess alone, like a coward.”

An unavoidable sigh escaped Rahim. “The stationmaster got transferred”, he continued, “probably to play the same deceiving game with some other innocent village girl. Mansi didn’t leave this platform for two days, Sahib, after that traumatic incident. I took her away after much effort and when we returned to her home, we witnessed her mother’s body in the noose from the ceiling fan. Mansi could not take the pain. She got hospitalized for two weeks. The doctors were immensely efficient, Sahib, the fever got cured but Mausam became different. She lost her mind and started to visualize me as her estranged lover, calling me by his name. All types of treatments failed to make Mausam recognize me as ‘me’. She did remember me as her childhood acquaintance but her love never wore out for the station master. She thought me to be him, coaxed me to accompany her to the station, and always wanted me by her side. Our story started under this very tree but I could never become Rahim for her. I remained Dilipbabu, the station master. Mausam became Mansi after conversion and I became Dilipbabu. She now has no one except for me. Even her own village will not accept her anymore. So we are staying together like this, providing company to each other.”

Pallav was hooked all through the story.

“Mansi could never accept me as Rahim and will never ever be. I will remain Dilipbabu for her forever. Trust me it is an ethereal feeling mixed with hatred when Mansi expresses her love for me thinking me to be someone else. She will never know what Rahim has done for her, Sahib. One day I asked her to marry me and she said she has long been married to me. I again faced the pangs of displaced identity and from then I never brought up the subject of marriage anymore.”

After another long pause, Rahim commenced again, “Being a normal human being I too feel angry and onslaughts of jealousy but if this is what destiny had decided for us, then I am very happy for this. I thank God that I am getting to stay with Mansi together. We are not officially married, but Sahib are we any lesser than husband and wife?”

Rahim’s voice shook with overwhelming emotions. Pallav too was feeling slightly uncomfortable due to the heaviness of the atmosphere. He was at a loss for words of sympathy for Rahim but luckily he was saved by a feminine voice in the distance. 

It was Mansi’s voice. She has come back, with a tray of heaped flowers and Puja offerings in her hands.

“Take this ‘prasad’ of God, Sahib.”

Addressing Rahim, she said, “come home now, Dilip.”

Pallav’s mechanically protruded hand was bestowed with some homemade laddus. Rahim gifted Pallav a petunia flower from his cloth pouch, saying, “This flower is from a bush we consider very holy. Keep this with you, Sahib, it will bring you good luck.”

Pallav kept the flower very gently in his handbag. The whistle of the train was heard in the distance and the darkness that was engulfing the station slowly made the retreating figures of Rahim and Mansi look very sketchy. Pallav got up on the train. He was feeling tremendously restless. He decided that as soon as the train takes a halt at the next station, he would look out for a phone booth in case his mobile tower was still unavailable. Pallav understood the tempest of mixed emotions that was slowly rising in his heart would only be calmed when he would hear Sharmita’s voice.

Pallav reached Kolkata on Panchami night. Leaving the ego behind, he went straight to his in-laws’ house. Sharmita was not at home. Probably she had gone out with her friends. The welcoming atmosphere of the house made Pallav realize that nobody knew anything about their animosity.

Sharmita returned exactly at eight o clock. Seeing Pallav, she was at first surprised but silently overcame that surprise within a moment. She started arranging her father’s birthday celebration. Although Pallav felt the urge to forget everything and get reunited, Sharmita was probably still not ready for such abrupt reconciliations. She maintained her curt behavior all the while. Her firm decision to relocate to Singapore for professional reasons got further established when she expressed her plans of whole-night pandal-hopping that very night citing the reason that she will not be available for the rest of the Puja. Pallav tried dissuading her but it was of no avail.

It is almost eleven o clock now. Sharmita was decked up in a purple kurta with off-white leggings. It’s been a long since Sharmita had worn ethnic dresses and she was looking serenely beautiful. Pallav felt the urge to hold Sharmita back. The next day a session of separation would begin when Sharmita would step into an altogether different country. He wanted to spend the night together, and +start the Puja together.

“Are you not staying at home tonight?” Pallav’s voice betrayed the urge.

“I have plans tonight, ‘Pandal’ hopping with friends.” Came the curt reply followed by the sound of a locking door. 

Taking an IRTC magazine, Pallav lay down in bed. The crowd outside along with the loud music of the microphone almost became the blissful cacophony of the upcoming joyful days. Pallav just thought however of Sharmita, how she was hopping into one pandal and another in this crowd. Coincidentally Pallav’s magazine opened into a page where there were descriptions of the smaller stations of India. But there was no mention of Pasandpura. Remembering every detail, Pallav felt very melancholic. The tiredness and melancholy together engulfed him into a deep sleep.

Pallav’s deep sleep was intruded on by a very familiar scent. He opened his eyes and witnessed the sight of Sharmita having tea on the verandah, her long wet hair swinging softly in the breeze. Pallav looked at the watch. It was 9 AM already. He came into the verandah and recognized the smell. It is coming from Sharmita’s freshly washed hair. They looked at each other.

“Will you not get ready?” Pallav asked his wife.

“Yes I will and so will you.”

Pallav prepared himself to go to the bath. 

“Listen, you will wear Kurta-Pajama today and I will wear a saree”, added Sharmita.

With disbelief in his expression, Pallav looked back.

“Sudhin Uncle has long invited us. Today is the right day to visit him. Tomorrow we can make other plans.”

Pallav thought that he was probably still in a dream as such an incident was almost impossible now in reality.

“Will you not go to the airport?” Pallav asked.

“I have declined the offer”, Sharmita stood up finishing her tea, “Charles is going in my place.”

“But why?” Pallav asked dumbfounded.

Sharmita did not reply. She gave a meaningful smile. 

Pallav ran to hold Sharmita in his arms but Sharmita dodged sharply, smiling gleefully. Pallav couldn’t remember the last time he was so happy. Joy uplifted the suffocation of misery, making the morning look all the fresher.

Oh God! Thank you Durga Ma! Pallav was ecstatic, what a twist in the tense tale! He didn’t even bother to care about the ‘Why’s and ‘How’-s and just felt he should follow what Sharmita said. He got up to get ready.

Pallav started for his bags, but suddenly remembered he forgot to pack the toothpaste. He reached out for Sharmita’s bag instead, seemingly confident of his organized wife. He opened her handbag and found it in one go. Just when he was about to close the zip, he noticed something else in the corner. It was a white envelope, with something inside it. He took it out and opened it as if it looked familiar.

It was a petunia flower, now dry and the color faded away as it had remained inside the bag for too long.

 ‘Ah, I almost forgot about that!’ Sharmita had come back to the room, ‘You won’t believe what happened. It was at this most remote and ordinary station where the train stopped and I met this wonderful couple...’

Pallav’s heart was beating too fast, he was standing dumbfounded. 

A distant sound of the Puja ‘dhak’ could be heard, adding to the melody of the auspicious Shashthi morning.