[This story was written lot earlier but I found it on my disk and here I am posting it. Its attributes as per MS word suggest this was created on January 12,2008]
It was not a different day. The dry rays of sun had not been able to evaporate the existence of the all dews shed by the night on the leaves of grass. Those dews were twinkling on the heart of the shivering grass that had born under the shades of the hill and the trees. No one could say for certain if those grasses could be proud for being able to hold the tears of night on their heart. It cannot be said that the sun was kind for warming the shivering earth in the middle of January; it was only its routine. Had it been kind in winter, it should not have squeezed the sweat out of every living entity in the summer. That narrow path had been trailed by uncountable people and that took different people to different places, if it had taken plural men to same destination, it was not its intention. It has no intention of its own. Many men, women and children have walked over its heart and all it has done throughout the generation is to watch them on their face while they walked through their hearts. When that path was built that is not in record, who walked that path for the first time no one knows. That path has overheard so many stories, so many conspiracies, so many laughters. It knows the stories that no one else knows. It have stayed helpless when people have been robbed, when chastity of women have been blotted, when sweats of the loaders have irrigated its infertile land. In its lifetime it has seen many wells being built, many sheds been built for passers by, many mobile shops being in service. No one has those accounts except for the path itself.
Raghu Sapkota is not a regular visitor of this path. When others offices enter from village to city, his office had done opposite. It had been two month when the school where he worked had been shifted from Trishuli Bazar to a haunting place in Deurali. He hadn’t even moved his family of three to the new place. In trishuli bazaar he and his wife often gets work in the morning, evenings which had little simplified their struggle to keep living. If he moved to this sleepy place he knew there won’t be any additional work apart from school. He was just a sweeper in the school for ten years. From ten years he has been a wage earner. They do not have his name in the office attendance register. If sometime he cannot make to work he would have to sleep empty stomach. Many times his wife went to school for him when he was busy in other profitable work or if he had been unable to go to school. He had been asking the school management to make him permanent worker or adjust his wife for some work. Since he came to the school, the school has seen four principles. He has repeated his woes to each one of them. All of them had said, they would talk with the concerned authority but they never remembered except for one. Janak sir had even talked with the visitors of the Education Ministry and Education Board about him. He had even written one or two letters to the authority but to no avail. The current principle was more cruel than butcher. He cared for no one. Raghu had to wash the new principal’s clothes but he never gave him a penny not even for the soap. Raghu disgusted himself for being worthless and to forget that he was a regular visitor of Parvati’s hotel in the evening and mostly he went home soozled. He used to fight with his wife and beat her regularly. His rather docile wife would only sob but once she back fired and hit Raghu with a log for which he had to get twelve stitches. Since then he has not raised his hands.
Raghu hadn’t woken up in a good mood today. He didn’t remember any nightmare and he hadn’t drank too much yesterday. He woke up to a sad day. His six years old was sleeping by his side and he raised his head to see his wife lying over a thin mat in the ground. Because of cold she had pulled her knees to bring them close to her hand. Her hair was scattered over the tattered pillow. Already torn rug was stitched at many places. He felt pity. He cannot remember when he last slept in a warm bed. But he never cared because the booze heated him. He looked at the innocent face of his daughter and kissed her lightly. She moved but then hid her face in his chest and went back to sleep. He thought what wrong did this little girl had done that she didn’t even have a warm clothes for the winter. He remembered she had been asking for the ‘chappal’ for more than a week. The one she wanted would cost forty rupees. Day before yesterday he had some money and had thought he would buy the slipper for his daughter but while returning home, his friends dragged him at Parvati Place and when we went home he had only twenty rupees which he gave to his wife. He slowly moved his hand over the hair of his only child. She didn’t move this time. While having meal he noticed his wife’s blouse was having really tough time to hide her chest. She would pull her torn shawl to hide it. It only made him feel bitter.
He set out for school in his usual time. It took him an one hour and half to reach the school. He could have ridden the bus but it took ten rupees, so he walked. He could have gone through the road but it would take him more than two hours. It seemed it is only he who remembered the forgotten trail. When he reached the school, the headmaster asked him to bring some money from the bank handing him a cheque. He had to go to bank twice every month. Once in the first week to get the salary and in the middle of the month for miscellaneous expenses. He has always done that. Every time he had to go him to bank they gave him twenty rupees extra as travelling expenses. He would still walk all the way to bank. The bank was near the place where he lived. He went to bank and withdraw money. It used to be forty thousand but since last month due to some reason the government had sent no money this time it was seventy six thousand four hundred and thirty two. He counted the money properly and left the bank. Others would have feared walking this empty track with such sum of money but Raghu didn’t realize something could happen.
He was lost in thoughts while returning. His eyes were in silent talk with the worn out path. He remembered his wife’s blouse, he remembered the innocent face of his child. He remembered her request. He loathed himself. He blamed him for all those miseries. He even cursed god for keeping closed eyes. He had heard everyone’s day will come but he was already thirty five and no good day had come for him. His first wife had died of labor pain as he didn’t have money to take her to Kathmandu. Even his second wife had given birth to two dead children before she gave birth to Maya six years back. He had silently blamed himself for all those things. One cannot say drinking was his way of punishing himself or forgetting the sorrows. Many people yelled, shouted, talked when they drank but Raghu would hardly speak when drunk. He seemed to be in introspection once drunk. He was thinking he must have committed some sin in his past life that he had such a miserable life but he could not resist from feeling sorry for his daughter. She learnt to speak very late. Even today she does not talk much with others but when its him, she would tell him so many things about the grocer’s five years daughter. She would tell him how beautiful was her new dress, how beautiful was her doll. He never understood why she never asked him for new dress, new toys. It was not her age to understand destitution. She is much matured for her age he used to think. Then he remembered that she had requested for the ‘butterfly slipper’, she had made any request after a long time. He couldn’t even remember when did she last make any request. His heart became heavy for not being able to buy even a forty five rupees slipper. His consciousness reminded him something and then he tried to feel his pocket for the money. The money was there and he returned back to his thoughts. He thought I am carrying money of which I will get nothing. I have served the school for ten years and it has given me nothing, my life is only worsening.
‘What if I ran away with this money?’.
‘I will go home and take Gayatri and Maya and escape to Kathmandu.’
‘Gayatri’s sister is in Biratnagar and her brother in law has a grocery shop there. They are doing pretty well. He can help me start my own business with this money.’
‘But what have the school teachers done for me. Why should they suffer and after all it is a crime, a theft?’
‘They have not done any good to me either.’ He thought.
He remembered few months back they had gheraoed the headmaster’s office to give them additional allowance as they had worked even after school hours for exams and other purpose. They didn’t remember even he had worked late. He had made tea for them for the whole week. He had fetched lunch for them. He didn’t get any additional allowance.
‘If they don’t think for me, why should I worry for them?’
‘What if I get caught?’
‘If I don’t take risk there would be no gain as well. I need to take risk this time. Even god wants me to take risk. I am not cheating any sages, they are money hungry bastards. They care for no one. How cruelly they beat small children for not doing home works. How do they pour their wrath over the poor children?’
‘If I get caught I would believe god punished me if I escaped, I would think the teachers have been punished for sins which only they know.’
His paces were slowing down. He again dipped his hand inside his pocket, the money was still there. Just then he remembered his poor father. His father worked for a landlord in Chitwan. His life was not better than his own. His father had five children to feed. His mother washed clothes and dishes of the landlord while his father worked in the fields. Sometime he couldn’t see his father for days during the harvest season. Once the landlord had severely beaten his father for not reaping the field in time and the wind had destroyed the harvest. His father could not move his hand properly after that. Once the landlord’s house caught fire and a huge property was destroyed. His parents struggled hard to get the valuable things out of the house. The landlord had two servants one was his father and other was Ram Bahadur Ghimire. His father returned all those saved property to the landlord but Ram Bahadur went missing for more than five years. Many things were lost. Many ornaments, they said only cash of five thousand was lost. Those days with fifteen thousand one could buy more than five hundred bighas of land with five thousand. Later Ram Bahadur emerged suspiciously and he bought many acres of fertile field and build a huge house. Raghu’s father died of due to lack of medicine. His mother had died much earlier. He has not seen his siblings for a long time now.
Once during dashain, the landlord’s daughter lost her new clothes and everyone blamed his mother. They had saved some money for dashain which they spent to buy clothes to the landlord’s daughter though his mother was not guilty. They spent that dashain without good food. Two months later the lost clothes was found. The landlord’s didn’t even pay back their money.
Generation after generation they had been exploited. ‘May be its time for me.’ Thought Raghu. He strengthened his heart and returned. He had no property and the place where he stayed was not his own. They had a stove, a plastic bucket, few utensils and clothes as their own. Even the bed was not their own. At 3:00 PM people had seen his family from the window of a bus that was to go to Kathmandu. Raghu and his wife had small box each and a bag when they were seen. That very day a report was written in the Police Station.
Now its been a week, Police has been trying to locate Raghu but no one knows where he has been as no body knew if he had any relatives anywhere.
Raghu Sapkota is not a regular visitor of this path. When others offices enter from village to city, his office had done opposite. It had been two month when the school where he worked had been shifted from Trishuli Bazar to a haunting place in Deurali. He hadn’t even moved his family of three to the new place. In trishuli bazaar he and his wife often gets work in the morning, evenings which had little simplified their struggle to keep living. If he moved to this sleepy place he knew there won’t be any additional work apart from school. He was just a sweeper in the school for ten years. From ten years he has been a wage earner. They do not have his name in the office attendance register. If sometime he cannot make to work he would have to sleep empty stomach. Many times his wife went to school for him when he was busy in other profitable work or if he had been unable to go to school. He had been asking the school management to make him permanent worker or adjust his wife for some work. Since he came to the school, the school has seen four principles. He has repeated his woes to each one of them. All of them had said, they would talk with the concerned authority but they never remembered except for one. Janak sir had even talked with the visitors of the Education Ministry and Education Board about him. He had even written one or two letters to the authority but to no avail. The current principle was more cruel than butcher. He cared for no one. Raghu had to wash the new principal’s clothes but he never gave him a penny not even for the soap. Raghu disgusted himself for being worthless and to forget that he was a regular visitor of Parvati’s hotel in the evening and mostly he went home soozled. He used to fight with his wife and beat her regularly. His rather docile wife would only sob but once she back fired and hit Raghu with a log for which he had to get twelve stitches. Since then he has not raised his hands.
Raghu hadn’t woken up in a good mood today. He didn’t remember any nightmare and he hadn’t drank too much yesterday. He woke up to a sad day. His six years old was sleeping by his side and he raised his head to see his wife lying over a thin mat in the ground. Because of cold she had pulled her knees to bring them close to her hand. Her hair was scattered over the tattered pillow. Already torn rug was stitched at many places. He felt pity. He cannot remember when he last slept in a warm bed. But he never cared because the booze heated him. He looked at the innocent face of his daughter and kissed her lightly. She moved but then hid her face in his chest and went back to sleep. He thought what wrong did this little girl had done that she didn’t even have a warm clothes for the winter. He remembered she had been asking for the ‘chappal’ for more than a week. The one she wanted would cost forty rupees. Day before yesterday he had some money and had thought he would buy the slipper for his daughter but while returning home, his friends dragged him at Parvati Place and when we went home he had only twenty rupees which he gave to his wife. He slowly moved his hand over the hair of his only child. She didn’t move this time. While having meal he noticed his wife’s blouse was having really tough time to hide her chest. She would pull her torn shawl to hide it. It only made him feel bitter.
He set out for school in his usual time. It took him an one hour and half to reach the school. He could have ridden the bus but it took ten rupees, so he walked. He could have gone through the road but it would take him more than two hours. It seemed it is only he who remembered the forgotten trail. When he reached the school, the headmaster asked him to bring some money from the bank handing him a cheque. He had to go to bank twice every month. Once in the first week to get the salary and in the middle of the month for miscellaneous expenses. He has always done that. Every time he had to go him to bank they gave him twenty rupees extra as travelling expenses. He would still walk all the way to bank. The bank was near the place where he lived. He went to bank and withdraw money. It used to be forty thousand but since last month due to some reason the government had sent no money this time it was seventy six thousand four hundred and thirty two. He counted the money properly and left the bank. Others would have feared walking this empty track with such sum of money but Raghu didn’t realize something could happen.
He was lost in thoughts while returning. His eyes were in silent talk with the worn out path. He remembered his wife’s blouse, he remembered the innocent face of his child. He remembered her request. He loathed himself. He blamed him for all those miseries. He even cursed god for keeping closed eyes. He had heard everyone’s day will come but he was already thirty five and no good day had come for him. His first wife had died of labor pain as he didn’t have money to take her to Kathmandu. Even his second wife had given birth to two dead children before she gave birth to Maya six years back. He had silently blamed himself for all those things. One cannot say drinking was his way of punishing himself or forgetting the sorrows. Many people yelled, shouted, talked when they drank but Raghu would hardly speak when drunk. He seemed to be in introspection once drunk. He was thinking he must have committed some sin in his past life that he had such a miserable life but he could not resist from feeling sorry for his daughter. She learnt to speak very late. Even today she does not talk much with others but when its him, she would tell him so many things about the grocer’s five years daughter. She would tell him how beautiful was her new dress, how beautiful was her doll. He never understood why she never asked him for new dress, new toys. It was not her age to understand destitution. She is much matured for her age he used to think. Then he remembered that she had requested for the ‘butterfly slipper’, she had made any request after a long time. He couldn’t even remember when did she last make any request. His heart became heavy for not being able to buy even a forty five rupees slipper. His consciousness reminded him something and then he tried to feel his pocket for the money. The money was there and he returned back to his thoughts. He thought I am carrying money of which I will get nothing. I have served the school for ten years and it has given me nothing, my life is only worsening.
‘What if I ran away with this money?’.
‘I will go home and take Gayatri and Maya and escape to Kathmandu.’
‘Gayatri’s sister is in Biratnagar and her brother in law has a grocery shop there. They are doing pretty well. He can help me start my own business with this money.’
‘But what have the school teachers done for me. Why should they suffer and after all it is a crime, a theft?’
‘They have not done any good to me either.’ He thought.
He remembered few months back they had gheraoed the headmaster’s office to give them additional allowance as they had worked even after school hours for exams and other purpose. They didn’t remember even he had worked late. He had made tea for them for the whole week. He had fetched lunch for them. He didn’t get any additional allowance.
‘If they don’t think for me, why should I worry for them?’
‘What if I get caught?’
‘If I don’t take risk there would be no gain as well. I need to take risk this time. Even god wants me to take risk. I am not cheating any sages, they are money hungry bastards. They care for no one. How cruelly they beat small children for not doing home works. How do they pour their wrath over the poor children?’
‘If I get caught I would believe god punished me if I escaped, I would think the teachers have been punished for sins which only they know.’
His paces were slowing down. He again dipped his hand inside his pocket, the money was still there. Just then he remembered his poor father. His father worked for a landlord in Chitwan. His life was not better than his own. His father had five children to feed. His mother washed clothes and dishes of the landlord while his father worked in the fields. Sometime he couldn’t see his father for days during the harvest season. Once the landlord had severely beaten his father for not reaping the field in time and the wind had destroyed the harvest. His father could not move his hand properly after that. Once the landlord’s house caught fire and a huge property was destroyed. His parents struggled hard to get the valuable things out of the house. The landlord had two servants one was his father and other was Ram Bahadur Ghimire. His father returned all those saved property to the landlord but Ram Bahadur went missing for more than five years. Many things were lost. Many ornaments, they said only cash of five thousand was lost. Those days with fifteen thousand one could buy more than five hundred bighas of land with five thousand. Later Ram Bahadur emerged suspiciously and he bought many acres of fertile field and build a huge house. Raghu’s father died of due to lack of medicine. His mother had died much earlier. He has not seen his siblings for a long time now.
Once during dashain, the landlord’s daughter lost her new clothes and everyone blamed his mother. They had saved some money for dashain which they spent to buy clothes to the landlord’s daughter though his mother was not guilty. They spent that dashain without good food. Two months later the lost clothes was found. The landlord’s didn’t even pay back their money.
Generation after generation they had been exploited. ‘May be its time for me.’ Thought Raghu. He strengthened his heart and returned. He had no property and the place where he stayed was not his own. They had a stove, a plastic bucket, few utensils and clothes as their own. Even the bed was not their own. At 3:00 PM people had seen his family from the window of a bus that was to go to Kathmandu. Raghu and his wife had small box each and a bag when they were seen. That very day a report was written in the Police Station.
Now its been a week, Police has been trying to locate Raghu but no one knows where he has been as no body knew if he had any relatives anywhere.
No comments:
Post a Comment