(Recap – In the previous part I gave the description of an another Uncle. This Uncle was the husband of real sister of Aatma Ram Mama (maternal uncle). Though there existed a good deal of age gap between his and mine but a type of good tuning had been generated between us. Behind this cultivation of tuning, the factor of liking for drinks played a big role between us.)
As I described in the previous episode, the nuptial tie of youngest daughter of my this uncle ( of religious city) got fixed in coming summer season. I was to attend the marriage function as the sole representative from my family side. On the date fixed for marriage function, prior to leaving for destination at his place, I contacted him on the land line phone in early morning and asked,” how much quota of liquor I should bring along with for you?” Upon that he said, his being the father of the prospective bride, he was bound to perform the ritual of Kanyadaan. ( In vernacular, in Hindu’s marriage, it’s a significant ritual. In this ritual, father of bride is bound to give the the hand of his daughter, in the hand of bride groom. It’s a an auspicious rite akin to a donation of daughter embedded with chanting of mantra by priest.)
Further, as per religious custom, father of the bride remains under obligation to observe a “fast,” till the time this ritual is performed. Hence during this period, he couldn’t take any “prohibited drinks.” In Hindus, this rite is performed during the ritual of Sapt Padi ( the seven vows, in which both bride and bride groom take seven rounds around the auspicious fire.) Often this ritual is performed at midnight. In reference, he too suggested, ” since the venue of marriage is at the adjacent charitable inn near the residence and all types of functions and ceremony are supposed to be held there and it may be helpful to you. Before the “opening of dinner” you can better take your drinks back in the house.” This was a propitious suggestion, since, the city as I already described was a “prohibited area” on account of its being a religious place.
In our side of the region, in Hindus’ marriage function, the entire family with kith and kin move to the venue of the marriage. Either house is left under the surveillance of some near or distant trusted relative or main door is locked and key is kept in safe custody of the house member. On the day of the function, I reached in day time at the venue of the marriage function. There in the gathering, I met with Aatma Ram Mama (maternal uncle) also. He met with a gleeful gesture and welcomed me properly. He inquired about my family affairs and my calling, how it was thriving.
In the evening, at the scheduled time, the marriage procession led by bride groom arrived and a bustle prevailed in the air. It was common thing in such function. The arrival of “marriage procession” on the door of the bride had ever been a colorful event of a marriage function. After that, the dinner ( at home) was to be started. My host Uncle betokened me to come near to him. He secretively handed me over the key of the main door of the house and gave me the secret signal to sneak away. The location of the house of this host uncle was in so called lower market of main bazaar of the old religious city. In fact, this building was an old tenement and in the first floor he dwelt. Here many families dwelt in the first floor’s small, old timed apartments. The stair case was used by all to climb. Even the main road was not a road in true sense, but it was a somewhat wider alley. On both sides of this alley, shops were constructed in a row, as we often find in our old timed settlement of religious cities.
I reached on the house of the uncle and unlocked the main door. Since, I was now the only occupant of the house and felt myself free mind, hence I just shut the main door but didn’t latch from inside. After that, I moved to the kitchen, collected a glass, some water and snacks and began preparing my drink. I got installed cozily on the sofa-chair in the sitting room. As I told, it was a part of old tenement and main entry of the house opened in this sitting room only. This sitting room also served as to receive the guests. I was sure, now dinner was to begin back at the place of venue and no one was expected here. Besides, no one knew, I was here.
I had had limited quota of the liquor with me and that was sufficient for me. I prepared my first drink of liquor and took a good swig with a sigh of relief. At the same moment, I heard the sound of foot steps of some one climbing the stair case. I took it in the sense, other families too dwelt in the same tenement, some one of them might be of that. Why should I bother about their movement. But, it was the next moment, that made my eyes wide open. Suddenly, some one pushed in the flank of the door with a bang and Aatma Ram Mama (maternal uncle) was there. It was like a thousand watts shock to me finding him here before me.
Truly say, If the real Gandhi ji would have been before my eyes in place of his, that wouldn’t be a surprise to me. But, the life long Ora of Aatma Ram mama ji with Gandhian thoughts and his abhorrence for liquor, I had witnessed in my life. He was “in flesh” Mini Gandhi who had more forceful appearance for me than real Gandhi ji. I hardly could manage to put down my glass of drink on the table. I felt, as if, I forgot to take a breath. I already told, I had met him back at the venue of the marriage function in day time. The truth was, he was the real maternal uncle of the bride in the first line. There, he was engaged in supervising all the activities of the function, including the catering of food preparation for evening meal etc.
The reality was, at this moment his presence was needed back at the venue of function. There, I supposed the dinner had begun and a responsible person like him must have been there to supervise the proper management. But he was here before me. To my surprise, he lifted his right hand upside, in a gesture, as if, granting a pardon to me in a mute posture for my drinking. Then he uttered, ” don’t worry, enjoy your drink.” After that, he got sunk in another sofa-chair before me. He stretched his legs, gave back support to his head with the help of his both hands by clutching his fingers of both the palm, his elbows protruding out.
After a while, he opened his mouth, ” Nephew, I had arrived at the venue of the function early in the morning. Being elder maternal uncle of the bride, I had to participate in all kind of rituals and look into other affairs as well. This engagement kept me standing on foot for the entire day. I am mentally as well as physically tired now. I knew, you will attend this function an all certainties, and when you would come, it’s but natural too bring liquor quota along with. I feel badly tired, just prepare a heavy drink for me, so I can get rid of this fatigue.” Reader can imagine, how astonished and shocked I felt by his wordings. How crestfallen I felt by his demand of drink. “Mini Gandhi”, whose image been conjured into my mind of a “high flown” pioneer of “anti liquor campaign.”
Before, I could come to the normalcy of mind, before that, he sprang to his feet and went inside the kitchen and came back with a glass. In that glass he poured silently by himself, more than the half quota of liquor. He even didn’t ask me for that. He hardly mixed some water into that and gulped down in a swig. A small bite of snack he put into his mouth and vanished from the scene in the same fashion, in which he had arrived. Of course, he with a bang closed the door when left the place. Now, I was hearing the sound of his descending foot steps on the stair case only.
The further story is, he made me “short” of my daily quota of drinks. Whatever liquor was left, I consumed that gloomily. But, his this new incarnation was so shocking, I could not enjoy my that drinks either. After the lapse of about one year of this incidence, I heard that back in his village, in the dark of the evening he met with an accident when riding on his moped. In the night, his moped collided with the trunk of some big tree on the road side, resulting into the fracture of his femur bone.
On coming to know this, I too visited to see him at his place. There I happened to come across with his same second line cousin, who long ago helped me taste “home brew” in the marriage procession of his son. He whispered into my ears, “Mini Gandhi was returning home after consuming ale from the distant “licenced country shop.” There he drank more than his capacity and got collided with trunk of a road side big tree.” Aatma Ram mama ji got well in due course of time and duly lived rest of his life as a proclaimed drunkard, till he breathe last. On my part, I extend a great acclamation to my this Gandhian maternal Uncle. ( End of the story. ) Penned by — Vinahy Pharasi —–
