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-17 ☆ Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury ☆

Every Century Begins with A Zero.

While going upstairs if someone starts counting the steps and think, ‘O my god, I’ve to climb so many steps!’ then it becomes quite difficult for him to continue his upward journey. But if he makes up his mind that he has to fulfil the job, certainly he’ll be able to do it. Now Gayatri was standing on the verge of her final goal. Inter-state competition date was announced, as they were expecting. For the venue of the swimming event, the Veluthampi Stadium of Ernakulum (Kochi) on P.T. Usha Road was selected.

Veluthampi was the dewan of the Travancore kings. When the Britishers were bent upon occupying the kingdom and started playing all their nasty games, Veluthampi assembled the people and gave a call to fight, ‘The land of Travancore is yours. How can the English men dare to look upon it?’ So a fierce battle was waged. At first the English resident couldn’t face the tide of the people of Travancore. But ultimately, they started winning in the battle field. Veluthampi somehow escaped and flew into the jungle of Quilon. Trivandrum was occupied by British soldiers. Veluthampi breathed his last in the forest only. This stadium is dedicated to his memory. 

Now everyone in that little house at Haripadam was quite excited. One evening when Manishankaran returned from his office and Ananthi brought him his coffee, he said to her, ‘See, our daughter has gone this far in her feat. Except achchan what did we do for her? Nothing practically. I think I must get a pair of swimming goggles for her. Then, while she swims her eyes would be protected from the irritation caused by the water.’

As for Ananthi, whenever she had free time in the afternoon or so, she would think, with her chin on her hand, about her daughter. Sometimes, just like the wandering white autumn clouds, her childhood memories would start wafting in her mind. She was probably in class three at that time and she madly wanted to get a fountain pen. She had seen her elder brother writing with one. She had been always trying to find a chance to lay her hands on that. One fine morning when her brother was not home, she picked the pen up from his table and rushed to write on a white paper. But the treacherous luck had planned something else for her. The big brother entered the room like Ravana, crossing the line drawn by Lachman, to take Sita away by force and the villain snatched the pen away from his innocent sister, ‘Never ever touch my pen. I’m warning you.’

Except weeping badly what else the poor girl could do that day? But the past story had its own silver lining. When her achcha came to know about this tragedy befallen on his daughter, he bought a pen for her. The pen was blue and that day Ananthi was all smiles again as the bright blue sky in the morning.

She had her savings from the household expenditures in a jewellery box. She took out her hidden treasure and handed it to Narayanan, ‘Achcha, can’t we buy a swimming costume for Gayatri with this money?’

‘Yes, of course. I too was thinking, she would need it.’ Narayanan took the money and bought one from Kottayam.                   

Even her grandmother Lalithambika was not lagged behind. She was fulfilling her role of a cheer leader quite religiously. Stretching her legs on the bed and rubbing some oil on them she reminisced, ‘God is my witness, otherwise who would believe my saying that I too used to swim in the village pond?’

‘Certainly, as you say. Actually your father sent you to Haripadam only, otherwise you could’ve gone to Olympics.’ Narayanan cracked a joke at her.

‘If I would’ve gone to Olympic who would’ve put the wedding garland around your neck?’ Lalitha was not ready to accept defeat in this sort of arguments.

Every night while sleeping beside Gayatri she would ask, ‘So my mermaid, how many seas you’ve crossed today?’              

The competition date was declared. It was to be held in January. It coincided with the time when the pilgrims from different corners of South India throng here to make pilgrimage to the abode of Swami Ayyappan, on the hills of Sabarimala. The local mythology says Ayyappan was the son of Lord Shiva and Mohini, a feminine incarnation of the Lord Vishnu. Here on the hills, the different faiths of Shaivism and Vaishnavism make a grand confluence. Only men are allowed to undertake this pilgrimage. The road to the abode is quite steep and the journey is strenuous. One can see the men in black dresses all over South India. They can be seen washing themselves in river or sea, spreading their clothes and wears on the seashore sand, cooking or taking rest on the road side. And a few just sprawling on the edge.

‘In this festive season where should we stay in Ernakulum? Any hotel or lodging?’ Naturally Narayanan was a bit worried.

Kumaran had his suggestion to solve the problem, ‘Sir, you must reach there a day earlier. Gayatri must take full rest in the night before. Well, if you can manage to go with me two days earlier, I’ll make arrangements for your stay in the hostel they’re providing.’

‘Let me see what I can do. Let me talk to Mani.’ Narayanan had observed.

He knew the competition won’t be that easy. It was the Inter State Tournament between so many South Indian States. It was not a child’s play. Here no one was lesser or greater than the other. Gayatri needed a sound sleep and complete relaxation in the night. Only then she could engage hundred percent of her energy and ability in her efforts. He expressed his concerns during their dinner, ‘Can’t we find a nice place to stay in peace?’

It was granny who solved the problem with a click of the fingers, ‘Why you people are so worried? Just across the backwater canal lives Kalyani in Pottekkatt. You can reach Kochi from there by launch in half an hour, I think.’

‘That’s true.’             

‘At least you should go there for once. After all she is your wife’s own sister. And so many time Kalyani has asked us for a visit. Gayatri will see for herself. She’ll become familiar with them too. And Kalyani will be pleased so much!’

‘Didn’t we go there after Kalyani’s wedding?’

‘Oh, that was years ago.’

From next day the whole the family was engaged in this or that preparation for Gayatri’s travelling. In the early morning itself Ammuma declared, ‘I’m going to prepare the coconut laddoos and the sweet ‘elayappam’ from rice. It’s my gift to my younger sis. Besides, her husband and her children too would like these. They must have become this big now.’

Narayanan tried to protest, ‘Look, we’ve to go to Kottayam first. From there again to Kochi. All through in bus. How can we carry all this?’

‘The journey succeeds if you carry sweets! By the grace of Padmanabhaswami Gayatri will be successful.’

And it was the final judgement by the Supreme Court! A letter was sent to Kalyani’s husband. The tide of joy rushed from Haripadam to touch the shore of that house in Pottekkatt.

On the day of journey, in the morning, Narayanan couldn’t concentrate in his meditation in the prayer room. As a boy feels on the first day of his important exam, his heart was full of inconceivable anxieties. After their morning coffee with two biscuits each Gayatri touched the feet of ammuma, amme and achcha and picked up their bags.

Lalitha handed the cotton bag containing laddus and the sweets to her, ‘Once you meet Kalyani tell her that I’ve made all these especially for her. When she was but a child she wouldn’t stay a second away from me. But now? So many years have passed and I’ve not seen her face!’ She wiped the corner of her eyes.        

From her room Ananthi beckoned her daughter and put some notes in her hand, ‘You’re going to an unknown city, keep these. If you feel hungry buy something for you.’

‘Why amme? So much already you’ve given in the bag. Moreover appupan will be always with me. Why do you worry?’

‘Alright, just keep this with you. May god always stay with you!’ For the first time Gayatri would be away for a few days from her mother.

Manishankaran took up the bags and said, ‘Let’s go achcha. I’m coming with you up to the bus station. Let me see for myself you sit comfortably in the bus, then only I’ll be assured.’ Then he turned to Gayatri, ‘Be sure that you’ve taken all your cards and necessities.’

Gayatri ran into the house, kissed Rajan and said, ‘Be a good boy in my absence. Don’t harass amma.’

Rajan looked at her expectantly, ‘Chey-chi, what’ll you get for me from Kochi?’

‘Me?’ Gayatri was fumbling with the words. After all what she could buy from an unknown city? She asked, ‘Just you suggest. What should I get for you?’

‘A medal, chey-chi. And then I’ll show it to that Krish.’ His eyes were shining. Full of hope and confidence.

Ananthi asked her, ‘Did you bow before the deities?’

Mani held his daughter’s hand and the three went ahead.

The bus for Kottayam was there already. The grandfather and his granddaughter were seated. Mani passed the tickets to his father and said to Gayatri, ‘My daughter, the prestige of our village Haripadam now lies in your hands only. Try to give your best.’

Gayatri looked at his father’s face. Once it was her father who had said, ‘Gayatri is merely a girl. What she’ll do even if she’s quite good at swimming?’

On highway the bus picked up speed. The coconut trees, the banana trees on the edge of the road and everything was running in the opposite direction. The peasants were working in their fields. Small cows stood there, tied with a rope, in front of many huts. Gayatri was looking through the pane. The world outside had so many colours! The golden paddy and the blue sky and all. A man, his feet tied with a small rope, was clambering up a coconut tree.

Narayanan followed her eyes and said, ‘Now there are training schools to learn climbing on the coconut trees.’

‘Is it?’ Gayatri was astonished and as she looked back, she saw that the man had already cut and fell a bunch of green coconuts on the ground.

As the bus was nearing Kottayam the road became quite spiral. It was full of ups and downs with lots of bends. Although it was winter but sun was pretty hot even by eleven o’clock. The city is situated on the shores of Kuttanad Lake which is but a tributary of the Vembanad. The city roads were very much congested. It’s mainly inhabited by the Christians. The disciple of Jesus, St. Thomas had built a church here. Some people believe the old church had been transformed into today’s St. Mary’s Church.                            

Suddenly the bus gave a violent lurch and it skidded to a halt. Startled everyone was on his feet asking, ‘What happened?’ A few went to peep through the door. Narayanan leaned on the window to get a view through it.

A crowd had gathered in front of the bus. Four or five people were arguing. Anytime a fight could break out between the two quarrelling groups. Narayanan was at a loss. Enquiringly he glanced at a fellow passenger.

‘Nowadays it has become an everyday occurrence, sir.’ he said, ‘A bike collided with the car. Both the car driver and the bike rider are blaming each other for using mobile phone while driving but see the fun, both of them were using their mobiles. And now each is putting all the blame on the other.’

Their shrieking abuse and hot-tempered words were audible from the bus. Two traffic police rushed to clear the jam, ‘Oh, what are you people doing here? Can’t you obey the traffic rules? Now better get yourself moving and clear the road. People are already stranded here. Let the traffic move.’

But none listened to them. The policemen started shouting and threatening them with dire consequences. A crowd, assembled around them, was enjoying the high voltage drama.

Suddenly two bulls, with their horns locked in a fight, appeared there from the bazar on the side of the road. One was pushing the other, its hoofs screeching on the hard surface underneath. Everyone fled the spot. The other bull retaliated. Now it was the time for the victor to retreat. Within no time the road was cleared.

One by stander at the scene shouted out, ‘Get a bucket full of water and pour it on their heads. They’ll be cooled down.’

All the while the street cinematographers were busy videoing the highlights of the event with their mobiles! None came forward to pacify the fighting warriors or shoo away the bulls.

The bus driver treaded on the accelerator.

The bus jerked to a motion. The co-passenger laughed and said to Narayanan, ‘Ha, ha! The feat which could not be achieved by the men in uniform has been performed by the mount of Shiva.’

At Kottayam bus stand they bought coffee. Narayanan then asked Gayatri, ‘See, what Ananthi has packed for our lunch.’

Gayatri was very much pleased today. It was she who was serving her appupan that day, ‘Why don’t you take two more coconut laddus?’

‘Oh, enough. I’m full.’                

They took the next bus to Cochin. It was a few hours’ journey. The Syrian Church and the famous pastry shops all were left behind and they were coming down from the hill. Just next there was the bridge on Periyar River. Alighting from the bus Narayanan called out an auto, ‘Will you take us to Pottekkatt?’

The Malayali names of the places have a peculiarity. Many literary figures of Malayalam have the names of their villages or cities attached to their names. Takashi Shivsankar Pillai belonged to the village of Takashi. Vaikom Muhammad Bashir was from Vaikom Taluka. The Jnanpith Award winner famous poet and novelist S. K. Pottekkat was born in Calucut but this place, somehow, bears his name.

When they were enquiring about the address of Kalyani the sun was already sinking in the blue water of Arabian Sea and the birds were returning to their nests.

Contd…      

© Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury

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

Mo: 9455168359, 9140214489

Email: [email protected]

≈ Editor – Shri Hemant Bawankar/Editor (English) – Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi, NM ≈

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