English Literature – Juvenile Fiction ☆ The Tide of will – Part-8 ☆ Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury ☆

Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury

Brief Introduction

• Birth – January 18, 1955
• Education – MBBS (IMS/BHU)
• Publications – 4 books (2 in Hindi, 1 each in English and Bengali) and two are yet to come.
• Translations – Books and articles are translated in English, Odiya, Marathi and Gujarati.
• Awards – CBT awarded stories and novel, “Kamaleshwar Smriti Katha Award (2013, 2017 and 2019)” by Kathabimb.
• Honour – “Hindi Sevi Samman” by Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwa Vidyalaya, Wardha (December 2016). 

☆ Juvenile Fiction ☆ The Tide of will – Part-8 ☆ Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury ☆

Can a Shuttle Cock Fly from The Venice of the East?

After a day or two Gayatri recovered and started her training again.

That day Kumaran had some urgent work, so he let her go earlier. They had time in hand, so Narayanan took her to the coffee shop near the stadium. There, sitting on the bench in front of the kiosk, he was telling her the story of the city of Alleppey, ‘You know, the other name of the city is Alappuzha. ‘Ala’ means a canal and ‘ppuzha’ is the river. The city is situated sandwiched between the river Pampa on one side and the grid of the canals from the river on the other side. Sometimes people call it the Venice of the East. Venice is the most beautiful city of Italy. The blue water of the Mediterranean Sea flows into the canal there in between the picturesque buildings on both the sides. In the year 1762, the dewan of Travancore created this vast network of canals here, from Arabian Sea for irrigation. And this back water is the connecting link between the sea and the different lakes of Kerala. The largest lake of Kerala, Vembanad, is situated just near it. Oh, we’re getting late.’ Looking at his wristwatch he got up quickly.

When the launch boat arrived at the jetty of Haripadam, it was tied with ropes and connected to the shore with the help of a long wooden plank. People started getting off the launch. Narayanan was getting down holding his cycle with both of his hands. Gayatri was following her appupan. The inclined plank was quite strong but as the men and women were pushing their way down on its slope and the children running along, it was moving up and down like a springboard.  Suddenly Narayanan lost his balance and he was about to fall while getting off the plank on the ground. A lady, coming just behind them, ran forward to help him. She took hold of his cycle and shrieked, ‘Oh sir, no.’

As she looked at his face she was a bit taken a back, ‘Oh, it’s you, sir? Namaskar!’

‘Oh Chiruta, it’s you! Well, how is life?’ They stood under the shadow of a tamarind tree. The tree had spattered the ground underneath with dried fruits and the leaves. Narayanan said pointing at them, ‘Oh, my mother would make such a sweet-sour chutney with them! Even at this age I don’t forget. Now tell me how is Arthur? Where is he now? Lately I heard that he was not keeping well. What’s the matter?’

A shadow of gloom descended on Chiruta’s face, ‘Sir, it was you who first handed him a badminton racket to play. It became be all and end all for his life. But Jesus knows what happened there in Thiruvananthapuram match, he became quite sick after that. I’ve heard he was taking some medicines and some injections, but nothing helped.’

‘So where is he now?’

‘I went to meet him yesterday. He is in Alleppey nowadays.’

‘So a mother returns after seeing her son. See, it’s a great blessing for him. God willing he will be alright, don’t worry. Well, don’t forget to ask him to meet me someday. And tell him that I put a high hope upon him. I expect a lot from him. He must raise the name of Haripadam in the field of shuttle. Well, did he visit you last Christmas?’

Chirutha just shook her head sadly and said, ‘Lately he was not able to sleep properly in the night. It gives me the shivers to think what will happen.’

Then pointing towards Gayatri Narayanan said, ‘O.K, we must depart now. Otherwise she’ll be late for her school. Come sometime to my place. We can talk over a cup of coffee. Don’t be so sad. See, when a man suffers, he needs a shoulder at least to cry on.’

The Christian community of Kerala has a peculiar tradition of names. The names like Samuel from Bible becomes Shamvel there and Joseph is called Oucep! Many of their children go to Arab countries to earn. So mostly the older people are all alone in their homes to fend for themselves. The poorer ones work in the agricultural fields or in the rubber plantations.

On their way home Gayatri asked, ‘Who is Arthur, appupan? Your student?’

‘Yes, a nice boy he was. One day after the school was done, I was just wandering in the field before going home. There I saw two boys playing with a marigold flower instead of a shuttle cock. No badminton racket. They had only pieces of hard boards as their bats in their hands. I was really saddened. I made up my mind to help them as far as I could. Very next day I asked our sports teacher to get badminton racquets for them.’

When Gayatri went out for her school Narayanan was in his room standing before the bookshelf. Mentally he was restless. What exactly had happened to Arthur, the would-be badminton star of Kerala? Was he taking some drugs? Who could say? Absentmindedly he took out a book from the shelf. It was his favourite author Thakazhi Sivasankara Pillai’s Chemmeen (Prawn). Lovingly people called him simply Thakazhi after the name of the place of his birth. As Narayanan’s name in his school certificate starts with Haripadam. The writer had received Sahitya Akademi award for this book. He was the second prestigious Jnanpith Award winner of Malayalam literature.

Although he was turning the pages, he was not actually reading it. He was simply reminiscing about those good old days. That day while strolling in the school field he suddenly heard a student calling out to his friend, ‘Arthur, you serve from that side. I’m here.’

What was the name of the other boy? Pillayee? How could he be sure after so many years had passed? They held the hard board of the school file in their hands and they were hitting a marigold flower in place of a shuttle cock.

‘Come on, hit it hard.’ One challenged the other.

After a few good hits the poor flower would lose all its delicate petals.

That day too Narayanan was overwhelmed with his sentiments. ‘Can’t the future players of our country afford a simple racket even?’

The boy turned his face with quite a start when he put his hand on his shoulder and said, ‘If you want to play badminton, play it properly.’

Quietly both the boys were standing there. None said anything.

‘If I arrange rackets for you, would you practise sincerely? Regularly?’

He had seen something sparkling in those two pairs of expectant eyes. Next day he had asked the games teacher Mr. Padmanavam to arrange for the rackets, net and shuttle cocks.

Arthur had progressed steadily. Till he passed out he played for the school team. Everybody had put a high hope on him. Mr. Padmanabham had informed him that Arthur was selected for the Raja Ravi Verma Academy of Sports in Thiruvananthapuram. The institution was named after the great painter of Kerala, Ravi Verma. Even today, printouts of his paintings such as, Shakuntala, Abduction of Sita and Nal Damayanti etc. adore the walls of many Indian houses. But some sort of an accident happened to him in a match over there. As Mr. Padmanabham had said he had slipped on the badminton court and his knee was injured. He got some treatment and then after a few months he was so depressed that he left playing badminton altogether.

All this was due to misuse of some drugs by the treating doctor. Suddenly a shiver ran down Narayanan’s spine. He started talking to himself, ‘Oh what am I doing? Which way am I going? Am I pushing my kuchumol to some unseen and dangerous future? Who can say? If just to pursue her career in this field she starts taking the drugs, then? What happened to Ben Johnson of Canada? After receiving the Olympic gold medal in athletics, he was tested positive and he had to return the medal. Many a sports persons of our country were humiliated because they failed the dope test. Oh!’

Once Mr. Padmanabham had told him, ‘Sir, in the cities, lots of young men and women go to the gym. The gym culture is a blooming business in metros. But, what to say, there the instructors themselves sometime sell the anabolic steroids to the innocent trainees.’

Oh! Narayanan could no more think. He pressed his temples with his thumb. He couldn’t properly eat his lunch that afternoon.

Contd…      

© Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury

C0ntact: Care Dr. Alok Kumar Mukherjee, 104/93, Vijay Path, Mansarovar, Jaipur, Rajasthan 302020