(Recap – In the previous part, I narrated how I remained engrossed into preparation of my final year examinations of post graduation course. During all this, I kept on visiting Timru brook to meet my most liked girl. Bur somewhere, I missed to judge or anticipate the havoc that was about to fall upon me. In between this period of time, the parents of my dream girl got fixed her nuptial tie with a boy. This she revealed to me on the last day of my final examination. Not only this, she too gave the excuses for not intimating me about all these developments during my final exams.)
The promise
At the departing moments of out last meeting, she had besought for a promise on my part. Upon my vouchsafing she had said, ” Never in my life neither I can forget you nor this Timru brook. In near future, whenever you plan to visit this village of your aunt, promise me, on your that every visit you will come in person to this site of Timru brook regularly at the evening time. A probability looms large there, may be in “some days” of the year, I might be visiting my parental home back; it is expected at least once in a year. I promise you, whenever I happen to be remained here at my parental home, I will visit this site regularly on every evening. May this be helpful to provide an opportunity to see you once again in the life here only.”
After that, we both took leave of each other, not knowing whether we were destined to see one another in future or not. The shocking aspect of this story was, I couldn’t dare to intimate my younger cousin sister Saroj, about the fixing of marriage of my dream girl. It seemed to me, when she had kept this information to herself for the sake of my final examinations, then it should come to cousin sister’s knowledge in a conventional way. Here I meant, it was certain, the invitation card of her marriage in all possibilities was destined to reach at the Saroj’s family. This was the practical aspect, whilst in emotional sense, it was my hugest defeat of the life and by disclosing about that I dared not to face cousin sister.
After that, maintaining a stolid composure at the house of the aunt, I began to collect my bag and baggage to retreat back to my home town. Further, for years to come, I never could collect myself to visit back the house of aunt back in that hill side. Yes, after lapse of three or four years of my landing back, when the marriage of cousin sister Saroj got fixed and solemnized, I went there to attend the marriage ceremony.
But during the entire session, I kept on averting my eyes from sister. This was the “tragic incidence” of my life, that made me grow “matured” before time. Even during my that short stay there, I couldn’t dare to visit the”Timru brook.” Mere thought to visit the brook was so excruciating to me that it forced me to leave the “house of marriage” at once, no sooner the “valediction ceremony” of cousin sister was finished, as the last ritual of the marriage.
I knew, every year when she happened to visit her Mayaka, ( in vernacular, her parental home,) she regularly visited the site of Timru brook. Coincidentally or it’s customary in hill sides, in the summer season vacation, all daughter who been wed locked to distant places, they visit the parental home. The same was with my cousin sister. There only at the Timru brook, both old timed friends happened to come across with one another. There only, my old love (girl) used to glean bits of information about my ”Well beings” from the cousin sister.
There, she insistingly used to ask my cousin sister about my ” journalistic drive,” and further, ” what I was doing? Whether I got married or not, how many children I had etc.?” There only cousin sister had told her about my installing of printing press and running of a “fortnightly” magazine. The tidings of my promising carrier ever made her feel happy.
Later on, when I had over come the “aftershocks” of my defeat in love and restored to normalcy in relation with cousin sister, my cousin sister had told me, my old timed beloved girl had managed to book my “fortnightly magazine” on annual subscription to her address. Whole through her life, she managed to maintain an indirect connectivity through my magazine. Perhaps from the magazine, she had noted the official address and sent this registered postal letter. But at the sender’s address, she had scribbled the address, ” from the site of Timru brook.”
Certainly, some thing specific she had sent in writing in this letter, hence she mentioned the name of sender, “Timru brook.” This simply ascertained that in case, if letter not delivered at proper address, it might be directed to get deposited as “trash” to “dead letter office.” I kept on holding the letter in my trembling hand. Any how, I was to go through the contents of the letter, hence I tore open the envelop and began to peruse that. ( End of the Part 6. Cont’d) Penned by — Vinay Pharasi —–
