( Recap- In previous episode I mentioned, how my ill fate took a sharp turn and every thing got upside down. The gist of my love story was, the parents of my most liked girl got her nuptial tie fixed somewhere and she too couldn’t resist that nor intimate me, because of some reasons. But at our last meeting, she implored me, “If in near future you visit the village of your Aunt in this hill side, you certainly will visit the Timru brook.)
Anyhow, I was to go through the contents of the letter, hence I tore open the envelop and began to peruse that.The brief contents were as such –
“Dearest editor Sir, Timmy,
(here, I have to disclose the fact, In our seclusion, she used to call me as Timmy on the name of Brook.) Till the moment this letter will reach to your hand (if it get succeeded to get dropped to the proper address.) I know not, whether my breaths will sustain my this corporal body or not. A long twenty-four years been elapsed since I saw you last time, but no any evening I spent without the memoirs of our last meeting of that dusk at the Timru brook. That ever remained alive into my mind and heart.
I had promised you, when ever I would visit my Mayaka (parental home,) at every evening I make a visit to Timru brook. And I ever fulfilled my that promise, whenever I landed back to my parental village. There, my unquenchable eyes and heart ever kept on searching your presence there. But my every attempt foiled every time. Never I found you there or you decided not to visit, even the place of your own parental aunt. But it’s not so.
For Saroj ( cousin sister) too intimated me that, you kept on visiting your aunt’s place, when it was needed your physical presence. No doubt, your visits occurred after long lapses of time and that too on the occasions of family functions only. My heart assured me, whenever you made visits to your aunt’s place, obviously you would have visited the “Timru brook” certainly. Might be, your visits to your aunt’s place were not scheduled in the summer season, when all the married daughters of the villages often visit the parental home, at least once in a year.
Might whatever be the hurdles for not visiting the aunt’s place in summer season on your part, that may have some excuses. But as far as, The “last promise” I made to visit the Timru brook regularly, I always fulfilled my promise, whenever I chanced to have a sojourn back into my home village. I too used to glean information about your thriving aspects of life, about your journalistic drive and setting-up of your printing press and running of your fortnightly magazine.
The tidings of my marriage got fixed with an army recruit, I had told you and that got solemnized as well. The only means to be in touch with you had been Your “fortnightly magazine,” whole through in my life. I regularly perused your contribution in the magazine, in shape of editorial, reporting etc. This helped feel me your presence around me. Probably you might have contained a complaint from me, for the “betrayal” and that’s a natural one too. But I know, you too would have judged my helplessness under those circumstances.
This world is fraught with such kind of unsuccessful love stories, as that of ours. But the feelings of love which never effaced from the heart of lover is a true love indeed. After marriage, I begot two children; one son and one daughter. Daughter is now married and happy in her family. My son is doing some technical course and I suppose will have a good carrier in that field. My husband too got retired from the post of Junior Commissioned Officer as Subedar. We owned a house here in Gaziabad (UP,) (perhaps Saroj would have told you about this.)
This letter I am jotting down from the ward of Military Hospital. A few months ago, I developed the incurable ailment of intestine cancer and at present struggling with last stage of my ailment. I ever cherished to send you a letter. This wish I too had had at that time also, when we happened to meet at the site of Timru brook. The same wish through this letter is being fulfilled.
I know not, whether this letter is destined to reach to your hand or not, hence at the assigned place of the sender. I am citing the address of Timru brook. If the letter reaches you, that shall be the grace of the god, otherwise, in want of proper address, it is supposed to be deposited at the “dead office letter.” The reason behind is, whole through my life, I contained my this secret to me only. Had I given my real address, then it was to drop back to my residential address and be read by my husband or some other member of the family.
My husband had always taken me as granted devoted wife to him; at this last stage, I don’t intend to hurt his sentiments in case( If real address made open.) Once again I beseech you, Please once, at least once visit the Timru brook and spend some moments there in recalling those bygone moments of our love. ONLY Yours …… ”
The date of letter already made it clear, it was some months old. I knew, the last stage patient of cancer hardly could survive this long span. But a feeling of sharp pang letter had initiated inside my heart. The phone number of cousin sister Saroj, I already had, and with a throbbing heart, I dialed her number. Otherwise also, after being defeated in my love story, I had developed a hitch in having candid conversation with her and cousin too acknowledged my tender sentiments .
After a long ring, she picked the phone and after passing of pleasantries, when I was configuring to initiate the talk on the topic, she by herself told, “Brother…. she is no more now. Passed away two months ago, succumbed to cancer. She too had last chat with me. It was her last wish to visit the mayaka ( Parental home) Once and to visit the Timru brook there only for once and last….” cousin sister kept on saying something more but my faculty of hearing gave up and a numbness I began to feel into my ears.
To fulfill her last “will,” perhaps for the last time in my life, I too visited the village of Aunt. There, in the village, all the members of the aunt’s family been permanently migrated to the plain side cities. Even long back, aunt too had passed away. A big padlock hung on the main door of the house and the plaster of the house too had begun to crumble on various spots. Some wild growths in the yard of the house too had its presence.
The old rough hewn path from the village to the Timru brook was now transformed into a wide cemented path. On the Timru brook, the Water Works department of the government had constructed a submerged under ground reservoir to collect the water. From there, a heavy and thick pipe line to distribute the potable water down to the village existed now there. Everything was there, but not visible in the old prototype. Even the cluster of “Timru shrubs” too had been rooted out In this transformation by the Water Works Department.
For a considerably long time, I kept seated there on an old boulder, immersed into reverie of the bygone time. Then I rose to my feet and strolled towards the path way, that led to her village side. After descending some paces, I reached to the point, from where she had pointed towards her village and her paternal house. The house which rested adjacent to the cluster of Banj Oak trees. There, still the cluster of Banj oak trees and vestige of her parental house were visible. But the ambiance lacked “her” presence and even I too felt myself being diluted into flood of tears that were shedding from my eyes. ( End of the Story.) Penned by — Vinay Pharasi —–
