(Recap — In the last episode I mentioned the circumstances that forced Bind bro to leave my this city and how after a long lapse of time, about twenty years later through “Face Book” I came to recognize him…..)
In response to my query on his post, there came the affirmative response from Bind bro. He had asked me to send mobile phone number. I at once made the compliance. After two days, he contacted me on the phone and told, he at once had recognized me through my face Book account. Further he queried about my family members and me. Then he related his well being, ” my health is not in proper condition. Staying here with the family of younger brother, a little more hobby of reading and writing still in in practice.” Upon asking me about his this new adopted name ( this in fact had delayed me to identify him,) he revealed, “I was here in a new city, hence I opted to begin new journey of life with a new name.” He somewhere looked wooly mind, when he spoke this.
After that, his phone calls kept on coming intermittently. I already mentioned, Bind bro was more than ten years older than me in age. It meant, when he left this city, he was about fifty years of age. After being spurn in love, perhaps he had committed to live a chronic bachelor’s life as love lorn. Now as per my computation, he was nearing about his seventy years of age. When he spoke, diaphragm of phone resounded with an impression, as if, an extremely old man was speaking on the mouth end of the phone. On one day, we had a long chat.
Firstly, he asked about the same common literary friend, ” how is he? What other members of his family are doing?” He seemed eager to know every detail about him. Then suddenly asked, ” still he in touch with you?” I told, “now he is not in touch with me.” After that, he queried about the old city with an agony of past, like a child. He was eager to know every detail of the city left behind. It seemed, after saying “good buy” to the city never he ventured to visit the city again. Still, in his mind, he conjured the same old image of the city. I told him, that old city was not visible on the scene. I further related, “merely in some congested, narrow lanes settlement of old locations, one could find the old city, but that too were scarcely spotted.”
Then, abruptly he asked, ” Still that Evening Law college is running properly?” I said, ” in new education policy, the concept of Evening classes been abolished, In stead. new pattern of day scholars system been introduced.” On knowing this, he assumed a long silence. After a pause, he asked in a drawl, ” the old road that happened to lead from the main local bus stand to the Evening Law College is still in the same old pattern?” I said, ” under the new city plan that old road too has been widen enough, now there emerged up a modern market on both sides of the road.”
Perhaps, it disappointed him. He took a sigh and spoke, ” I cherish a strong desire to visit the city once and have some days sojourn there. I wish to stroll on those same roads. But whenever I planned to visit either, my health doesn’t accord for that.” I could very well realized his anguish, when he queried about the Evening Law college. Obviously, in his mind the memories of his old disloyal girl friend were afloat. He was asking about the “same old road” on which he daily trod with with the girl after receiving her from the college and dropped her to home. I also could imagine, not only that single road, even he too had strolled with the same girl over other roads and lanes of the city in the bygone era.
It seemed, living by the memory lane, he once, at least once wished to tread on the same roads and locations, as if, to refresh his spurned love. Might be, in his memory still he reminisced his love to take a lively form. Inside my heart, never I wished him to visit this city in his life; since, this present city was no where in semblance to the old city, the image of which he conjured in his mind. It was just contrary to that image. Had he been here once, every thing, every image he conjured in the mind were bound to shatter in thousand pieces like a glass pot thumped on the floor.This too could shatter his sweet memories of bygone era. It was better for him not to visit this city in person but to live in his reverie of old time.
In his Face Book account, old anecdotes and reportage related to my this Himalayan foot hill city kept on surface up intermittently. Every such contribution wore the same old earthy smell. On one day he rang me on and begun, “I have penned down in details about the memoirs of my friends of the old city. Now, I am planning to give it the shape of a book. But financial crisis is not permitting to get it realized on the ground. Though, my younger brother is in a good post in the government department but he too is under obligations to carry the family. Otherwise also, I am a parasite upon him, I can’t dare to seek his help on this plan.”
He stopped for a short and spoke again, ” Here, I also try to earn some money but that is like a pittance. Long back, I had learnt an art to create the collage images, by selling them I earn some money. No sooner, I reached to the position of sufficiency of fund, I certainly will get the book published.” When he spoke all this, his voice faltered. It was an indication of bad health. After a while he again had long conversation. With an anguish, he recalled the old city left behind. Then suddenly, as if, had forgotten to ask previously, he asked about the well being of the old mother of the same “literary friend.”
I related about her leaving for heavenly abode long back. Then he mentioned the names of some old friends. Some of them, had untimely left the world. I told him about some people who were into my personal knowledge as such, I described in detail. Again, he began querying about old important buildings and Cine-halls. I gave him propitious reply, all they are in new format and all old Cine- halls now converted to shopping Complex and Malls. Upon knowing that all, he became silent and after that dismally he concluded the conversation. ( End of the Part-9th. Cont’d.) Penned by — Vinay Pharasi —–
