English Literature – Juvenile Fiction ☆ The Tide of will – Part-5 ☆ 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-5 ☆ Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury ☆

The First Step.

A sea of people was already there on the bank of Pampa. A lot of loud noise. Everybody was talking in a high pitch. A perfect hullabaloo. Everyone was out to enjoy the festival. Whole of the Haripadam village had assembled on the bank of the river.

The boat race was just about to begin. Each boat was a pretty long one, decorated with bright orange to dark green and other colours. A perfect riot of colours! There were thirty to forty boatmen sitting in each, holding tightly his oar, a long wooden pole with flat blade at one end. Their sitting arrangement was such that if one was on right side, the next one would sit on left. A man standing in the middle of the boat was playing a drum. Just to fill the participants with enthusiasm. The rhythm of rowing was maintained by the music.

Battling his way, pushing and shoving the crowd someone came near them and touched Narayanan from behind, ‘‘Namaskar sir.’  

This made the headmaster start and he turned around, ‘You Itukettu? Didn’t participate in the boat race?’

‘No sir. I’m old now. Always feeling a bit of pain in the shoulder. This year my son is there to row the oar.’ He smiled and turned to Gayatri, ‘Do you know what these boats are called?’

Gayatri didn’t know. She was silent.

‘They are ‘chundan vallans’ or snake boats, you know? And see those ornamental umbrellas in the centre. Are not they किते magnificient?’

The boatmen wound white turbans tightly around their heads and they were wearing white ‘mundu’ dhotis. With beating of drums and full throated singing the race was started. The crowd standing on the shore just burst out into a roar of shouting. Everyone was quite excited and exalted. Everyone playing the role of a cheerleader for the team of their village.

The boatmen, waiting for the race to begin, were singing ‘vanchipattu, the boat song’ loudly in chorus.

‘I’ve left the home days back, I’m far away.

The waves touch the sailing boat, what they want to say?

The sun has burnt our skin black all through the day.

Our pain to you in home, the breeze will convey!

Thi thi thara, thi thi thai

Thi thai thaka, thai thai thom!’

Full of enthusiasm, people from different villages were talking among themselves.

‘Hey, see that boat hoisting white flag with golden lace! That belongs to our village, Kalpetta.’

‘The cup was ours last two years! The boat from Thalpatti won it.’

‘Don’t say it’ll be yours this year too. We too have worked hard. Practised a lot.’

Itukettu was standing just beside. He whispered into Narayanan’s ear, ‘Sir, there will be a swimming competition too. Won’t your granddaughter participate in it? At least she can try. Just take a chance.’

An air of excitement was hovering all over the place. From the bank to the boats. Touching the waves on the water and reaching the opposite shore. Winging its way even to the sky.  

Gayatri complained, ‘I’m not able to see anything, appupan.’

As more and more people were thronging, everyone was shoving and pushing through the crowd for a better view.

‘Don’t worry baby. I will take you on my shoulder.’ Itukettu picked her up. But for Gayatri it was quite embarrassing. ‘Am I a little child?’ she thought in her mind, ‘If one of my friends see me what she will think?’ Just after a while she struggled to get down.

Narayanan held her hands tightly and waded through the crowd.

‘Where to, appupan?’

‘You’ll see for yourself.’ Narayanan was careful not to let the hold go loose.

And suddenly Gayatri found herself standing in front of a table. A few sitting on the chairs on the other side. Every one of them was busy writing something on a paper, placed before him on the table.

By then the boat race was over. They were announcing the result in the loud speaker. But for the noise all around, it was not easily audible. There was a confusion among the public. Who was the actual winner? Kalpetta team or Thalpatti? Because of the commotion no one could hear the announcement properly. Each of the group was very much confident of their win. Naturally a war of words ensued.       

Before Gayatri could gather anything, a man sitting on the other side of the table asked her, ‘Name?’

Gayatri became nervous. When asked again, somehow she could answer. Still she failed to understand what was going on.

After writing her name, that gentleman told Narayanan, ‘Sir, please take her to that side, over there. The competition will begin from that point only.’

Competition! What competition? Gayatri was really confused.

Sasidharan Narayanan pulled his granddaughter by hand, ‘Come on, you too will participate in the competition today.’

‘Appupan, I’m getting nervous.’

‘First you swim and then you’ll have ample of time for your nervousness.’

Anyway, because of the noise all around Gayatri was unable to think anything. She was walking simply guided by her grandfather. Someone, separated from his friend in the crowd, was calling him, ‘Hey Sajitha! Sajitha -!’ And a child, lost in the crowd, was crying for his mother. Another woman, trying to console him, shouted out, ‘Hey Karutamma! Where are you? Oh, see what has happened to your son! Poor boy! Don’t cry my child, I’m with you. ’

In this commotion Narayanan was moving ahead with his kuchumol beside him. As they reached the shore of the river, at one place he stopped and asked Gayatri to change her dress, ‘Get ready.’ And then he tied a thin cotton Indian towel around her waist.

‘Appupan -! Gayatri probably wanted to say something. But her mouth felt as dry as a bone.

‘Let me take you there first. We can talk afterwards.’ He took her by hand and led her to a place in the water where some twenty or more girls were standing in a queue. Hardly anyone was in a proper swimming costume. Somehow they all had managed to dress up and get ready for the sports. At a distance of twenty metres from the shore two bamboo poles were floating on the river. They were tied with ropes to two boats on either side. And that was the finishing line for the competitors. The swimmers would go swimming up to the finishing line and then come back.

Gayatri felt a sort of weakness in her legs. Oh, can I do it?

Before she could mentally prepare herself, the referee blew his whistle. Whole of the crowd burst out in a cheerful roar, ‘Ho, ho! Hooray! Go, go!’

Splash ……..

All the girls jumped into the water. Their little hands, alternately, rising above the water and then going down into it. Again and again. Off and on their heads would be covered by the waves. Just like the fins of the fishes their legs were pushing the water behind. The family members of each girl were present there to cheer them up, ‘Oh, Panchami, you can do it. Go on.’

‘Patumma, you’ve almost reached. Just a few metres. Cheer up!’

Everyone was exited. Everyone was yelling.

None of these girls ever practised under the eyes of any expert or trainer. As it happens all over our country they learnt swimming only with the help of their father or any other relative. Courage and enthusiasm were all they had to go ahead in this field. Everyone watched the swimmers splashing through the water.

Gayatri too was swimming recklessly. Lying on her front moving one arm over her head and then the other, while kicking the water continuously with her feet. Doing ‘the crawl’ just under the water surface. 

‘Well done, Gayatri. Go ahead. Quick.’ Narayanan called out in excitement. Who can say whether Gayatri heard it or not?

The people standing on the shore were waving their hands and shouting. The words of rapturous applause were flying like sparrows all around.

And the two bamboo poles of the finishing line were dancing on the waves. Sometime going up and then again coming down on the water surface. Generally in the morning when people spread grains on the shore for the birds, the sparrows fly away from the bank, sit on the bamboo poles which float for them on the river. They drink water there and come back. In the same way these girls touched the finishing line and started returning. Now Gayatri too was swimming towards the shore. As fast as she could.

Yes, there on the bank, my appupan is standing on the steps. He is waving to me. Oh, god! What’s he saying?

And before she could understand anything she was snuggled up to her appupan’s chest. And the old headmaster of Haripadam, out of sheer ecstasy, was dancing with her in his lap, ‘Oh, oh, you’ve come first my baby! You’re the first!’ 

They announced the result of the swimming competition in the loud speaker. After a while they called the winners, ‘Gayatri, Patumma and Kamala, come on the stage.’

But Gayatri was simply looking at the loud speaker dumb-founded. How could she move even a single step?  As if a heavy stone was tied to her legs. She was feeling a heavy burden in them. Oh, why doesn’t appupan go there and collect the prize?

The grandpa pulled her by hairs, ‘Why don’t you go there?’

‘Achchan, please, can’t you collect the prize?’

‘Why should I? Just go and take it.’

They had put up a small make shift stage over there. Gayatri climbed up the wooden steps. She was standing there silently at a corner. She couldn’t realize who took her to the person who was distributing the prizes. Neither could she understand how a packet came to her hand. She didn’t even dare to open it. The prize remained unseen by the winner herself.

The moment she alighted from the stage, Narayanan came and took her in his arms, ‘Let’s go home. Everybody will be so pleased.’

And just then a man came forward and bowed before Narayanan. Both of them were surprised, ‘Oh, he is the referee of the competition. But why is he here?’

The man said, ‘Sir, I’m Kumaran Naynar. Passed 10^th in 2001. I was the goal keeper of the school football team. Can you recognize me, sir?’

‘Oh, I see. That’s very nice.’ Narayanan was shaking his head appreciatively. Then he asked, ‘So, how are you? And what do you do now?’

‘I live in Aleppy, sir. I’m the swimming pool coach of the university over there.’

Gayatri was standing silently beside them. She was little irritated. Why appupan is not going home? Oh, today evening there will be fireworks on the field. Achchan has promised that he would take us to the show.    

Naryanan was talking to his old student. Enquiring about his parents and all that. Suddenly that man Kumaran took hold of his teacher’s hands, ‘Sir, I just want to ask a thing from you.’

‘From me! And what’s that?’ Narayanan was taken a back.

‘Will you give your kuchumol to me, please?’

Contd…      

© Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury

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