Years after leading a more or less nomadic life, my heart today yearns for permanence. Having retired as an IPS officer from New Delhi last month, I have returned to rest in the lap of nature for my twilight years. During my tenure in the police service, I’ve had the privilege of staying in lavish government bungalows all over India. I have also explored offbeat destinations during my remote postings in different states. However, my childhood memories have brought me back to the place I have loved so dearly…my own Sikkim. This North-eastern state of India , bounded by the Himalayan terrain is a land of rugged mountains, deep valleys and dense forests which consort with raging rivers, lakes and waterfalls to create a visual panorama!
Going back in time I recall the first 17 years of my life that I was fortunate enough to spend in this beautiful locale. My father owned a tea estate in South Sikkim during the early sixties. As you can assume, I was thus born into an elite family and had ample opportunity to live in close proximity with nature. But God is a great leveller! Soon after I was born, my mother succumbed to a strange disease that was yet to be diagnosed. Thus I was a motherless child, raised mainly by the several maids who assisted the housekeepers at our estate in Sikkim. Growing up I found my dad mostly on surveys to keep his business flourishing. Devoid of my parent’s company, I often longed for a sibling, and felt rather jealous of friends who were always accompanied by brothers or sisters on our playful adventures.
Those years spent here continue to be the best years of my life, as I walk down the memory lane! I am in my sixties now, and a strange nostalgia has drawn me back to my childhood abode. As I see the Movers and Packers unpacking my belongings, I am gripped with a sense of ‘déjà vu’ which is hard to release! It is almost as if I am reliving my past and my youth. The lacuna of my soul is suddenly brimming with a newfound zeal for life! Though I am a self-proclaimed bachelor, I never really felt the need for a companion…but I often crave companionship now…in the form of friends, cousins and other relatives who frequented our home every now and then, when I was young, and the house was booming with sound!
Before dusk approaches, I plan to venture out to the local market for some knick knacks, as also for the urge to drive down in my jeep through the mountainous slopes, winding and unwinding every few miles. The Teesta river gurgles below, meandering its way through the narrow gorge, teeming with vegetation and wildlife. The neighbourhood is rife with news of my arrival and a lot of people especially the golden oldies came to exchange pleasantaries while acquainting me to their next generation. On receiving such a warm welcome, I instantly feel at home!
It is past twilight when I reach home. Meen Bahadur, the age-old caretaker of the bungalow greets me at the entrance with a wide, toothless grin. I’ve know Meen Bahadur since I was a kid and cycled through the sprawling tea estate. Getting down the jeep, I hand over my packets to him, as he announces” Saab! Dinner is ready!” My dinner is light consisting of Thukpa, a sikkimese soupy noodle delicacy, with some stewed veggies. After dinner I enquire from Meen Bahadur if my bedroom is ready and arranged. I want to retire early today after the hectic travel of the past few days.
I venture to my room to hit the hay. Much to my surprise, even the furniture and upholstery looks the same, again a reminder of the days we had inhabited this house. I suddenly find myself too tired to even muster the courage to peep into the old almirahs. Leaning on the bed with a few cushions, I nod off peacefully into dreamland. Visions from the past haunt me in my sleep…forgotten melodies, family gatherings, festivals, noisy children making a riot… and then SHE!
***
“Shhh! Stop yelling, all of you! Can’t you see my baby sister is still asleep…Don’t you dare disturb her!” I chased away my boisterous gang of friends, while I watched over little Saloni, busy sucking her thumb in her sleep. Our age gap was about 11 years, but it was hardly any deterrence to our deep camaraderie! I cradled Saloni like my own daughter, and loved the fact how she detested being thrown in anyone else’s arms other than her beloved Dada! Saloni was my world and I was her possessive Big Brother. In no time she grew into a lovely, doe-eyed angel, and a doting sister.
“Dada, where are my anklets? I have been looking for them since morning.” she complained …
The moment froze in time…
***
In my dreamy aura, I start looking for the missing anklet, as a shiver runs down my spine. I wake up in a sweat, and start plundering my old trunk on which a rug has been laid. Vivid memories flash in my mind’s eye as I eagerly open a small chest of jewellery, chiselled in gold. Taking a deep breath I open the box with my eyes closed. Saloni’s pretty face beckons me to open my eyes to reality. “Yes” I sigh, at the sight of the single golden anklet, uniquely crafted with tinkling bells!
Yet again I’m overwhelmed with emotion at the thought of her…My dearest, darling Saloni! She still moves in the recesses of my mind with the most graceful gait; her lilting voice echoes in the corridors of my childhood evoking a tenderness that my heart would never forget!
My mind races back to the time I first saw her. The time is etched in the reels of memory like it was only yesterday! It was barely a few days before my 11th birthday, and I had ventured too far riding my bicycle, at the outskirts of the expansive tea estate. It was a chilly October morning, and it had already started snowing in the higher reaches. I parked my bicycle on the side of a dilapidated building, wanting to explore more…
I remember the precise moment, crouching behind a crumbling mud wall, peeking into the alley near the frozen creek. That was a long time ago, but it’s wrong what they say about the past, I’ve learned, about how you can bury it. Because the past claws its way out.
I looked in disbelief through the crack in the wall, where a man shrouded in a thick shawl with his face covered by a muffler, looked suspiciously around. He held a bundle in both his arms, covered in clothing, which was unrecognizable from a distance. With rapt attention and the least movement I kept gazing at the man. Making sure that there was nobody around, he carefully put down the bundle, under an old tree, over a heap of dried leaves. My suspicion rose and I decided to stay back after the man disappeared through the alley to the opposite side of the building. I looked around but there wasn’t a single soul in sight. As I got up and straightened myself , I heard a strange tinkle of bells coming from a distance. It was surely the bundle, and I raced towards it. What I saw left me spellbound, for clothed in the bundle was the most exquisite baby I had ever seen, throwing her legs up in delight as she looked at me blabbering incoherently! I gasped for breath as I noticed the single gold anklet adorning her left ankle. A thrill went through me and it was a split second decision that I was going to take this baby home…come what may! Luckily my bicycle had a basket in front, with just enough space to carry the baby. Avoiding any intruding eyes, I neatly covered the basket with a cloth that veiled the baby. As if guided by some inner voice, I removed the anklet and kept it safely in my pocket, so no one would know. On the way back home I kept wondering how anyone could be so heartless to abandon such an infant! I was also wary of my dad’s reaction to my intrepid act of bringing the baby home, at the same time determined to put a brave front!
As expected my dad was in a frenzy to see me carrying the little bundle indoors. However at my insistence and constant entreaties, he had to finally relent. I was over the moon to have a little sister, who adorably cooed at me, oblivious of the chaos outside. And so we had adopted my little sister whom I lovingly named ‘Saloni’.
On my further appeal and pleading, a full time attendant was appointed for Saloni, who was recruited only after my approval. For I was her over-protective Dada , who had found a living doll in her. After returning from school, my main agenda was to play with my little sis, often comb her hair and sometimes even change her diaper! I used to recite nursery rhymes to her while she giggled at my expressions, as though she understood every word! When a crib was bought for her, she flailed her arms and legs so vehemently in protest that I had to pacify her in my own arms. Such was the unspoken bond we shared!
Time flew and soon Saloni started to crawl. She was a cheerful and bubbly child, indescribably cute, and would often create a mayhem at home, by crawling under the bed, behind the almirah and other such places to hide. At such times, unable to find my precious little girl, I was often reduced to tears until she melted in my arms once more.
“Hurry up Dada or we’ll get late for school! See, you forgot your tiffin again! And how many times should I remind you to polish your shoes?” Saloni had already started mothering me, when she turned five. Though I had grown up into a nerdy teenager by now, she took pride in scolding me for the silliest of reasons, and picked up a fight deliberately to prove her dominance!
“Dada, don’t you know it is only because I care so much!” she would protest and I would give in, knowing that she loved being spoilt.
I was good academically and also a sports enthusiast. Saloni took after me, but more than sports she enjoyed singing, in the most mellifluous voice! Her lilting, rhythmic, melodious songs enthralled one and all, and when she started singing, she made all hearts flutter with joy! She revelled in the adoration and I would silently keep her in all my prayers.
***
I wake up from my reverie, and it is almost dawn, as I draw the curtains of my room to let in the morning’s dewy freshness. The cool breeze embalms my soul, which is still gripped in nostalgia. The bells of the monastery atop the nearby hill add a richness to the surroundings, which was so amiss in city life. I decide to go for a stroll in the estate which is now reduced in size to half, as my Dad had sold much of the property to other builders, before his demise. The old world charm of this place has me captivated. Everything around me reminds of Saloni…the Hydrangeas in full bloom, the bushy rosebeds, the seven sisters chirping aloud and the misty mountains all around. “Will I ever see you again dear?” my heart weeps in pangs of separation.
As I walk further down the slope amidst the lush tea gardens, I see a figure emerging through the thick fog, as though he had been waiting to encounter me. I am taken a little aback, but decide not to react. I am unable to recognize this middle aged man, perhaps in his forties, with a look of remorse on his face, as he greets me with a bow of his head. Much to my amazement, he pulls out something from his pocket, spreading open his palm to offer it to me. I’m aghast to find the lost pair of the gold anklet, along with a neatly folded letter, which he hands over to me. He appears illiterate, and scared of any further interrogation, and so, before I can utter a word, he escapes downhill through the thickets.
Shaking away my bewilderment, I quickly put away the letter and the anklet, before I come across anyone else. Without much ado, I decide to take a shorter route back to the bungalow, to read the letter in isolation. Reaching home, I hurry to my room and bolt the door. Heaving hard I open the letter to read the contents. The letter reads as below…
“Respected DGP Saab,
Salaam!
As you must have guessed after looking at the anklet, this letter is regarding your beloved sister Saloni. I introduce myself as Pritam Singh, who was acquainted with Saloni’s erstwhile mother. Let me first assure you that this is not regarding any help or ransom that I want from you. It is about a past that you may be unfamiliar with, and I wish to inform you as I lie on my deathbed.
Your adopted sister was in fact the daughter of a nautch girl from my village. As is common in this trade, Saloni’s mother was threatened to put her daughter in the same trade. But she was a good woman at heart. At that time I was a regular to her place, and had fallen for her gentle and sweet demeanour. The lady did not want her daughter to fall into the clutches of this inhuman racket. She wished for a good life for her new born daughter, And therefore, secretly, she entrusted me the task of abandoning the baby somewhere far from the village, hoping she would find a safe sanctuary in someone’s home.
By God’s providence you happened to be at the same spot that day, and rescued Saloni by raising her so well!
But I have a confession to make without which my redemption is impossible. While you were away on a posting, I had once encountered your sister while she was on the way to her college. Finding her alone I enticed her to talk to me, and partially revealed to her how you had adopted her as a baby. My intention was not pure and I know God will curse me for stooping so low. But now I seek your forgiveness for this act! The girl walked away in disbelief at my story, but I had planted the seed of suspicion in her innocent mind, simply out of spitefulness!
May God grant her peace wherever she may be now!
This is all I had to say, and thus I’m sending the letter and the anklet through a messenger. Please don’t try to trace my whereabouts for by the time you receive the letter, I will be alive no more.
Forgive me for my sins!
Pritam Singh.”
A teardrop rolls down my eye, wetting the letter still in my hand. Though my life hasn’t turned upside down by this revelation, I could well imagine Saloni’s plight! It pierces my heart to think how the news must have been a thunderbolt for my dear sister, to realise that her Dada had actually rescued her from the debris where she had been abandoned as a baby! The mere thought is unbearable…
Pritam Singh’s confession takes me back in time, once more…
I had turned 25, when the news arrived that I had cleared The UPSC exams with first rank to get selected for the IPS cadre. I was on cloud nine and the whole house boomed with joy…except for Saloni. I failed to realise at first why she was so morose at hearing this news, but gradually it sunk in. I would soon be leaving the house for my training, which meant that I would have to leave my little sister behind too. She was inconsolable but I maintained a straight face to calm her down, though deep within I had an ominous intuition!
Just before Saloni’s fifteenth birthday, I decided to come up with a surprise. This was also a week before I was supposed to go to Delhi for my training. Without divulging any details to Saloni, I invited all my friends and her’s too for a bash at our place. I singlehandedly made all the arrangements for the evening party, which turned out to be a grand affair. It was partly in a bid to appease my dear sister, while the other motive was to meet up with close friends, who would soon become distant due to my posting. I had arranged for an orchestra to accompany Saloni as she would sing a few songs for us. Though still upset at the prospect of my leaving Sikkim, she smiled at me for the first time in the last few weeks, and that was a great relief to me. That day she looked radiant in a red gown with her hair left loose, and my heart swelled with pride to see my sis all grown up!
As everybody listened to her lilting melodies with rapt attention, I couldn’t help noticing how many admirers, especially among my own friends, she had secretly gathered. I didn’t quite understand why I felt a wee bit more possessive that day as a big brother. I wanted to protect her from all impending storms, and the very thought that a few years hence she might be betrothed to someone , brought a lump in my throat!
The day soon arrived when I had to leave on duty. I was at the end of my wits about how to control my overwhelming emotions when I bid adieu to my sister. Yet, being a Police officer, I restrained myself with much difficulty. I entrusted Saloni in the hands of my dad, who I knew would go to any length to comfort me.
“Dada, do return soon! I’ll wait for you impatiently!”her words still ring in my ears.
Two years elapsed, and Saloni was now in college. Meanwhile, I had been unable to return to my hometown, on account of several trainings and deputations which I had to undergo in this period. Saloni wrote to me often ,but lately the frequency of her letters had dwindled. I wondered why, but consoled myself that perhaps ‘No news is good news’. And all of a sudden, out of the blue, the dreaded news arrived. It shook me to the core that my little darling was wasting away to a serious illness, though eminent doctors had not been able to diagnose her as yet. After all major medical tests had been carried out with no detection of any physiological ailment, doctors claimed that her problem was psychological. She was finally diagnosed by a reputed psychiatrist for manic depression.
I took a break from my hectic schedule to be with her during this exigency, and it broke my heart to see my flower withering by the day! Saloni was almost reduced to half, her glow faded into oblivion, and her naughty, cherubic personality had lost its gleam. My nightmare was coming true, but I was hell- bent on leaving no stone unturned to make her bloom once more!
***
Coming back to the present, I wipe my eyes off the mist, and realise that the past indeed claws its way out, even if it is stowed away in the unlikeliest of places!
I begin to piece together the individual pieces of the puzzle that have been boggling my mind since decades. Pritam Singh’s letter has raked up a hornet’s nest, to say the least! I scamper through my memories of Saloni, and wake up to the fact that her once deteriorating health was a byproduct of Pritam Singh’s revelation about her adoption. I try hard to forgive him, but to no avail! The pain stings my heart like no other.
The month is June, and the firmament looks heavy, with grey clouds looking to shower any time. The petrichor of wet earth again brings a longing to turn back time. Standing by the window I look at the other side, with images of me and my friends sailing paper boats in muddy puddles. How childhood beckons me to return to her lap!
I remember the last time I saw Saloni. Fifteen years have passed but the time is still raw in my mind. It was the time when our dear dad expired from a serious heart ailment, without any warning bell. Being the affectionate, obedient daughter, Saloni rushed in time to perform the last rites, and so did I. But this time she didn’t cry on my shoulders, for she had someone else to lean on. To this day I believe that she has not forgiven me for keeping her birth a secret.
Flash back to the time when Saloni turned 23, and I was in Mumbai for yet another deputation. After years of medication and counselling , my little sis started showing signs of recovery from her long standing depression. I thanked the heavens above to finally receive a letter from her in her usual chirpy tone, which I had nearly forgotten! This time it was a longish letter, in which she elaborated about her postgraduation from college with flying colours. She informed me about how grateful she was for all who had supported her in the recovery process. One name in particular struck a chord in me, and left me wondering…
Saloni had been friends with Manav, who happened to be my batchmate in college. How their friendship would someday blossom into a romance was a guess I never made…or never intended to. From her letter, and also from close friends I became aware of the close proximity that the two of them now shared. It all started when Saloni fell seriously ill, and I was away on training. Manav had been her pillar of strength from then on, and was a regular visitor at home. He would pep up her spirits, lend a helping hand and read inspiring stories to get her out of the melancholy. In my heart I knew he was no cheat, and his intentions were pure. He even had a bright career ahead,as he pursued his engineering degree with laurels. However I could not come to terms with this revelation. I was just unable to digest the fact that the girl whom I had tended for so many years, was now independent enough to take her own decisions, and was involved romantically with a childhood friend. I felt deceived, but was unaware of my own selfishness that made me succumb to such low feelings.
I burned with indignation and a deep sense of insecurity regarding my little sis. My emotions were unfounded and irrational to say the least, but I resented the situation so much that for the very first time I refrained from sending her a reply. I posed as though I didn’t care for her reaction, but deep within I was anxious. My postings kept me busy and I could hardly visit my Sikkim those days.
One fine day, while still in Mumbai, I received a call from my hometown. It was a lady at the other end , who introduced herself as Manav’s cousin. Her appealing manner and soothing voice instantly caught my attention, though I was taken by surprise at this sudden intervention. She introduced herself as Radhika, and inadvertently reminded me that we had met on two occasions earlier. Before I got more curious, she stopped me halfway to break a news that left me dizzy.
“Your sister Saloni is soon getting married to my cousin Manav, in a secret ceremony. Although its an audacious move I thought it was imperative to let you know, as she is now your responsibility. Kindly think twice before you take any necessary action, for the two are deeply in love and can go to any extremes to make ends meet! Also, please pardon my involvement, and do not disclose our conversation to anyone! Its an earnest request , Keshav!”
With this she put down the phone, but the way she addressed me by my first name, left me quite astounded. It was as though she was bound to me in some way that she could take the privilege of calling me ‘Keshav’. Her voice resounded in my ears for days to come!
The news of Saloni’s secret nuptials was far too much to bear and I was fast losing sleep, thinking what might have brought her to such a drastic decision. The mere thought that she didn’t find me worthy enough to even ask for permission, was infuriating! I would be an uninvited guest, and my self-esteem would be scarred beyond measure, if I happened to visit home at this time. It irked me no end to imagine that my very own darling could do this to me!
Thinking of it now, I realise how hastily immature I had been in my reaction. It was my decision to burn all bridges with the ones who mattered most. with no afterthought that it would lead to a lifetime of repentence , perhaps!
I wrote a congratulatory letter in the most sarcastic tone to Saloni, who at once replied, urging me to come. She did indeed seek my approval for the wedding, and apologised for her stance. But my inflated ego didn’t allow me to seek amends for my behaviour, instead all along I harboured the false notion that I was no longer important to Saloni. And that is how I chose to close a beautiful chapter of my life…
It’s nearing a month that I’ve been in Sikkim, and memories are all I have to share. Loneliness has clutched me with no dearth, and I decide to delve into meditation. Though I’m not a Buddhist by birth, yet I’m often drawn to the nearby monastery…in search of peace that has long evaded me. One such evening I saunter along the cobbled streets to find myself visiting the monastery. I sit in silence for half an hour and introspect on my life, seeking redemption for my actions, that could have led me to a more secure future.
On my way back I receive a call from an unknown number. Hesitatingly, I pick up the call, and Radhika’s familiar voice soothes me once more. This time her voice sounds merry as if she is the harbinger of some good news…I wait with bated breath…
“Keshav, I wanted to let you know that Saloni and Manav are returning back to India from New Jersey, next week. I am visiting them, and shall accompany them back. We just came to know that you have retired back to the tea estate. It is an opportune moment to reconcile with past misunderstandings and weave a new life! Saloni is eager to meet you and so is Manav and their daughter, who is now in college. We have decided to travel to Sikkim on 16th of July for a grand reunion. Hope God’s will permits it this time!”
With that she held up, and I was too exasperated to utter anything. Tears of joy rolled down incessantly, as I was already making a mind list of things to be arranged in the coming days, for the revival of long lost ties.
I stomp into the bungalow waving cheerfully at Meen Bahadur who looks puzzled. “Bahadur! Get the house in order, fast…my Saloni is returning with her family next week!” At my utterance of her name, all the house helps line up and almost leap with a newfound joy!
The time that had stopped ticking , seems to be flying now!
The day finally arrives, and I am still looking at my watch. I find myself at a loss for words when Saloni comes and touches my feet. Blessing her with all my might, I embrace her tightly in my arms, never to let go again! Behind her, through my misty spectacles I can see a suave gentleman, with salt and pepper hair, like mine. “Manav!” I don’t find words to express my apology and delight, both. But he smiles at me as though we were together all along! I am relieved, and then I catch a glimpse of a mini-version of my dear sis, her daughter, Manasvi.
It is Rakshabandhan and the house is radiating love that went missing ever since Saloni left.
“Dada,we have been waiting this long to meet up, but are you aware of that one person who’s been waiting her whole life for another glimpse of you?”
A lady, as old as Saloni, enters the room, walking gracefully in a simple saree, delicately draped on a slender frame.
“Radhika?” I enquire automatically.
In the weeks that follow, me and Radhika have become the best of friends. It seems as though we are long lost friends, reunited fortuitously! We venture out for long walks together and talk about everything under the sun, for we have a lot of common interest.
I talk about everything…except the anklets and the letter.
One of these days I venture out to the marketplace, alone, and get the gold anklets smelted in a furnace. In lieu of that I purchase a beautiful neckpiece for my niece, Manasvi along with a pair of earrings for Saloni. Both are ecstatic and receive my gift graciously. A humongous burden lifts off my soul, as I also burn the letter in my fireplace.
Remnants of the past are now charred beyond retrieval, and a new beginning heralds its arrival.
Saloni and Manav have coaxed me out of my bachelorhood , and with a registration I am now bound to Radhika for the rest of my life.
My isolation has ended and so have echoes of the past.