Shyamal intentionally missed the coach at Howrah station in which his family was seated.  He boarded another coach. Sayan had seen him trying to board the train but missed out on that part when his father actually succeeded.

Sayan got confused and could not be confident when he said that he saw his father missing the train. Shyamal kept a watch on the members of his family from a distance throughout the journey.

A remorseful Shyamal, mentally depressed, looked for forgiveness for quite some time. He believed that his days were numbered. Before anything disastrous happened, he wanted to find out how his wife, son and father would behave in his absence. Traveling to Tarapith provided him with opportunity for both.

He had planned everything meticulously well, and therefore he retained even the ticket of his father, railway pass for his wife, son, self and money for the journey. The only allowance he made to his wife and son consisted of persuading his father to accompany the family.

The best part of his experiment was that the members of his family did not have an inkling of his scheme. So far they did remarkably well without getting panicky. Continuing their journey to Tarapith their behavior was unbelievably cool.

They warded off the TTE's onslaughts, though Shyamal was behind the second attack. If asked to award points, he would award the highest to Sayan and lowest to his father.

Shyamal had planned well in advance how he would vanish and what would be his alibi. He had even persuaded one of his TTE friends to help him out in his endeavor. Shyamal disguised as the checker with the French cut beard and black goggles.

This disguise helped him remain incognito throughout the journey. He could also remain in the vicinity of his family in case they were in trouble. Shyamal, a very considerate person, failed only once and the accident shattered him mentally.

But Shyamal could not imagine that things would go out of his hand because of some unknown reason. Instead of going to Tarapith, his family decided to visit Sadhika's ashram at such a remote place on earth. It would have been a lot easier if his family had gone to Tarapith. It was safer, and Shyamal also could keep a close watch, concealing himself in the crowd.

After Sadhika accompanied by the trio, got down at Sadinpur from the train, Shyamal also disembarked on the off side, where there was no platform and walked away maintaining quite a distance to camouflage his presence behind the four. So far as the discussion went in the canteen, his family would accompany Sadhika to the unknown ashram in the distant horizon.

All the troubles that Shyamal faced now were of his own making. Although he fasted, he could not go to Tarapith to offer puja and ask Mother Goddess to forgive him this time. He should be allowed to live till Sayan completed his education. Shyamal thought that he had committed a crime. He had to atone for it by paying back with his life. 

He had a vision that could be variously ignored as hallucination by the uninitiated. The vision showed him that only the Mother Goddess could excuse him. For that he was required to visit Tarapith and stay away from his family. In spite of sincere efforts he could achieve neither.

Once he reached the precincts of the ashram, he would approach Sadhika for a place to stay, the groundwork for which was already completed in the railway canteen at Rampurhat, when he had indicated his intention to visit Sadhika's place.

His family would not be able to recognize him in his present incarnation of a man with a French cut beard and black goggles. At least that was what he hoped for.

"Once I reach the ashram, I would confide in Sadhika and ask for forgiveness of Mother Goddess through her." Shyamal thought as he continued to trail the foursome, maintaining quite a distance from them.

Then again his thought process took a detour. He thought: "How can I depend on someone whom I don't know at all? How can I confess to her? How can she be more dependable than my father, wife or son? If at all I decide to confess, that shall be to my family."

Then again he thought: "No, I must not confess to any human being. If I seek forgiveness, I should confess to the Goddess alone. But I don't know how to do that. I tried to run away from my family but ended up being tied with them more firmly. The more I struggle the more does the noose tighten. I cannot flee from this bondage."

Shyamal didn't have peace of mind and therefore the natural beauty of the countryside through which he was passing failed to evoke any response in him. He wanted to cleanse his mind of all the dirt and pollutants first.

Till that was done there won't be any end to his troubles. He wanted to live in this world. Life was so priceless. He didn't want to squander it away. He wanted to wash away his sin and live life happily forever.

For the present, however, Shyamal decided to continue with his disguise. Let time heal the malady from which he suffered. The special rituals, which Sadhika had planned for tonight, might show him some way out. He agreed to remain an optimist at least for this night.

He waited for sometime at the outskirts of the ashram till the visitors settled and Sadhika proceeded to her cottage. Shyamal straightway went to the temple and paid his obeisance to the deity installed there.

A spacious thatched dwelling, open on all sides, in front of the temple where devotees could take rest, sing hymns and devotional songs or just while away their time in search of solace, stood in front of the temple. The thatched place served as the marriage venue for local tribal people.

Shyamal had no luggage with him as his belongings were packed in Sefali's suitcase.  Exhausted beyond all limits, Shyamal needed rest. Thirst and hunger completely overwhelmed him in course of the day. Shyamal still continued his fast, simply because he forgot to eat.

He squatted beside one of the bamboo pillars of the open dwelling. The cool shade of the great banyan tree provided him with not only rest but mental solace also. The banyan tree, a great gift from God to mankind, proved that to Shyamal.

Then he remained thoughtless for some time. A cold shiver went down his spine, as some unknown entity appeared to enter his body. His eyes closed as he assimilated the energy. He continued to remain in a dazed state.

 

T

The problem was that the TTE's didn't have any pen with them. They were off duty.

"We have deposited pen, paper, bill books, ticket counterfoils etc to the office. That is the rule. Once we are off duty, we can't keep the stationery with us. They must be accounted for." The no French cut man said.

He pushed the daily newspaper towards Sayan to write down his father's name on it. The French cut man remained absolutely silent for a strange reason. His companion did all the talking. Sayan again observed the French cut man with black goggles to appear very familiar. But this time too Sayan failed to place him.

Neither grandpa nor Sayan's mother had a pen with them. Sayan faced a problem finding a pen in the canteen.  A few more passengers took food in the canteen, but Sayan couldn't ask each one of them whether they possessed any pen. He would be impinging on their privacy if he did that, felt Sayan.

Then, all of a sudden, Sayan remembered the ballpoint pen, which he picked up from the floor of the railway coach at Santiniketan.  He had kept it in his pocket and forgotten about it. He found it in his pocket, took it out, pushed the top and wrote down his father's name and designation on the margin of the newspaper.

Sayan found that the pen wrote superbly with the smoothness of silk and he felt very comfortable writing with it. He carefully pushed the top after finishing writing and kept it carefully in his pocket.

Sadhika appeared in the canteen at about eleven A.M. and told Sefali, "You didn't inform me of the latest development; but I could not overcome the inquisitiveness. Could you make up your mind? Why don't you be my guest for a couple of days?"

"I am informing my address to these gentlemen of the railways. If your husband comes here, the ASM on duty will give him my address so that he can go there and bring you back. If we don't go by this train the next train is due two hours and half later."

The non French-cut summed up, "This is a workable proposal.  We'll see to it that as soon as the next train from Burdwan arrives, Shyamal's name will be announced over the public address system of the station, and then things will follow as planned."

Sayan again took out his pen and wrote down Sadhika's address, as dictated by her, on that newspaper. The pen wrote beautifully this time too. It appeared to be self-propelled. Whenever Sayan wrote with the pen, he felt very happy.

Sefali ultimately relented, though half-heartedly.

She argued, "Shyamal may miss the announcements if he goes to Tarapith by road. In that case, he won't come to the railway station at all."

"Since he has a free railway pass, it would be logical for him to avail that instead of spending money by traveling on road. Road journey is not comfortable because of rough country roads in this area." Sayan's grandpa said after a long time.

The French-cut TTE talked now, perhaps for the first time, " If possible, I want to visit Sadhika's ashram."

Sayan got confused now. He thought, "Why, of all people, should the TTE want to accompany them? Does he have some bad intentions?"

Grandpa didn't harbor any such doubts. He agreed to everything the others decided. Tarapith didn't interest him and neither did Sadhika's ashram. 

Sayan wondered in his mind, "Why Sadhika is so keen on taking us to her ashram. Does she have any secret plan? Is the French-cut TTE in league with Sadhika?"

Ultimately Sayan also agreed because he couldn't think of anything else. So all of them boarded the same train, which stood on platform number two, and reached the next station Sadinpur in about fifteen minutes.

Sayan remembered everything on reaching Sadinpur. This station was shown in a TV news item sometime ago. This place served as the outdoor locale of a recent film on Netaji, the legendary freedom fighter of India and heartthrob of millions.

The low platforms of this small station almost touched the ground. A small red brick building comprising a single room and waiting hall for passengers stood at the center of the western platform.

As it were, a very romantic station emerged out of the old archives of the British Indian Railways. There had been almost no change in its get up since its inception at least a century ago. The railway station and its picturesque surroundings fascinated Sayan.

He immediately felt that their journey to this place was immensely successful for being able to see this railway station, if not for anything else. Sayan, a fan of the Indian Railways, particularly its glorious legacy, felt a kind of pride on reaching this place.

The beautiful architecture of the single roomed structure showed that engineers who had had built it, possessed an artistic mind. An open delta piece of iron bar suspended in the porch, served as a bell for announcing arrival of trains and ticketing time to intending travelers.

Circular brick and cement benches around the base of shady trees served as waiting lounges for the passengers. A peaceful place, this small station echoed the chirping of birds and occasional sounding of the bell by the railway staff. A couple of through trains crossed, raising a storm and volutes of dust and fallen leaves. Such express trains ignored the station and flipped through, as if it were a page out of an old book of history. The past got frozen with the present here. 

Sayan thought, "I am famished now." The fresh air acted as an appetizer. All of them felt so much the better after inhaling the unpolluted air of that place. They refreshed themselves with the cold water from the tube well on the platform. All of them settled down on a bench to rest for a while before embarking upon the strenuous trek ahead. Sayan and grandpa finished their lunch there with the homemade food, which Sefali had brought along.

The two women fasted. Sefali fasted for offering puja at Tarapith. Now she would do the same at the ashram under the competent guidance of Sadhika, who fasted because the day was special. New moon and Saturday had coincided to create that specialty.

They set out for the distant horizon after some time. No vehicle plied from Sadinpur to the ashram because no road connected the two. The pedestrians walked on the partition between adjacent plots of the rice fields. It required some skill to walk on the partition because one had to precariously balance oneself on the slushy and uneven earth surface.

Sayan slipped several times before getting accustomed. Sefali, uncomfortable with her sari, managed somehow. Grandpa knew the art of balancing well because he spent his childhood in rural surroundings.

Sadhika sailed through like a majestic pelican. Huge storks descended on the rice fields smoothly to look for small fishes and crabs. From a distance, the large storks appeared like human beings squatting on the fields.

Beyond the sprawling rice fields, bluish hills peeped from the distant horizon. Sayan had never experienced so much joy in his life. He found this world beautiful and thanked his stars for being able to enjoy its beauty.

Sadhika pointed her finger towards the hills and said: "My ashram is a couple of miles in that direction. This narrow pathway is the only means of communication of my ashram with the external world. You will find your stay very enjoyable at that place."

Sayan was full of vigor. Everything appeared bigger here including his grandpa and mother. His diminutive, disease worn grandpa was walking energetically. Sefali was equally cheerful. She was not weighed down by the thought of impending long journey and fasting.

Perhaps she had forgotten that they were supposed to go to Tarapith. For the time being all of them forgot that Shyamal, the bread earner of the family weren't with them.

They found a river towards their right.  This was the Brahmani River. They walked by the side of the river for sometime, then found a bridge, crossed it and followed the path. It must have been three hours of brisk walking.

Tripita, a small river, came their way. They crossed that too. The knee-deep water of the river didn't pose any problem. Tripita originated from the dwarf hills lying to the west. Sadhika drank water from it.

Finally they reached the ashram, which was on the fringes of a small tribal settlement. From a distance the ashram had appeared as a cluster of trees. When they came closer they found a clearing inside with a number of cottages and a temple at the center.

Dense forests abounded all around the ashram with small hillocks raising their defiant heads here and there. Sadhika pointed her finger at one of such numerous hillocks and told Sayan: "Do you see that one with a large neem (Azardirachta indica) tree atop? We call it the dancing hillock."

"Does that tree dance?" Sayan enquired.

Sadhika smiled and told him "The reason is different. The stream we crossed some time back originates from springs located in that hillock. Water comes down gleefully, as if dancing, from the hillock, giving that name to it." 

Sadhika showed them round the ashram and ushered them into one of the cottages there.

This book  - Distant Horizon -bearing ISBN:1430323094 can be ordered from amazon.com

 

 

 

 

 

Sefali said: "Let us reach Rampurhat first. Then only we can decide. We will first offer

puja at the temple and then put up in some guest house there for the night. Tarapith is not

a big place. Your father will be able to locate us there easily."

"If you don't mind, can I ask you a personal question?" Sadhika asked Sefali.

"Okay. You can do that. I won't mind anything."  Sefali said expecting some good

suggestion from the ascetic now. What else could she do? She knew that her father in law

would neither take any initiative in resolving the matter nor object to anything she

decided.

"Does your husband behave erratically sometimes? Is he not as attentive to household

matters as he should be?" Sadhika wanted to know.

"I did not find him like that earlier. But of late he has been telling me that it would be

difficult for him to reach Tarapith. That's why he asked his father to accompany us."

"I get a queer feeling about your husband. I don't know whether it is true or not. But

don't mistake me for a tantric or follower of some such occult schools of meditation. I

don't want to acquire any supernatural power. Finding peace is my only objective. I am

Sadhika (meditator) in name only."

"Then why have you renounced normal life and chosen the path of an ascetic locating

your ashram in such a remote corner of the Earth?" Sefali asked her.

"I selected that place only because it is serene and suitable for concentrating one's mind."

"Now, please tell me what do you feel about my husband exactly?"

"I can't tell you that till I am sure of it."

It appeared that Sadhika was more interested in Sayan for she asked him again.

"Sayantan, will you accompany me to my ashram? It is a Saturday as well as new moon

night today. The Goddess may show us some way out of the predicament this night."

"Why do you call me Sayantan, madam?"

"It is simple logic. I deduced it from your face, which explicitly carries the meaning of

your name. Do you know the meaning?"

"No, I don't know that. It never struck me that I should know the meaning of my name.

Please tell me the meaning."

"Sayantan is the adjective of evening. You must have been born in the evening."

"It is true. It is also true that his name is Sayan." Sefali confirmed.

Sadhika said in a matter of fact manner: "It is well and good if you happen to reunite with

your husband at Rampurhat. Otherwise you can pay a visit to my hermitage preferably

before the evening prayers. You have to get down from the train at Sadinpur, which is

next to Rampurhat. My place is several miles to the west of that small railway station."

"The name of that station is ringing some bells in me. I heard that name recently although

I can't recollect it now." Sayan was immersed in deep thought.

Gandevta express reached Rampurhat at 10.20 a.m. Most of the passengers got down

there. They hailed from the city carrying fat bags containing various items of

consumerism including the exotic ones and were bound for Tarapith to spend a nice week

end there. Those were moneyed people who went there to wash off a part of their sin

accumulated over a period of time. They offered puja to the Mother Goddess and

bolstered the local economy by inducting fresh capital every week.

It was not known whether the Goddess was pleased at their vagrant display of coarse

money power. Even when they went back there was no sense of remorse that could be

ascribed to a change of heart triggered by induction of sublime reverence in the presence

of the Mother Goddess. They remained largely unaffected by any spiritual influence and

returned repeatedly to the Mother Goddess in search of some magic touch that would heal

them of their maladies.

The train had a scheduled stop of almost one hour at this place. A change of guard took

place here. Sayan, his mother and grandpa prepared to get down. Sadhika remained

seated because she would get down at the next station. She told grandpa: "If your son has

sent any message for you, it will be available with the ASM on duty. Otherwise you can

come back and accompany me to my ashram. I can conveniently accommodate all of you

there. That place is not as congested as Tarapith. Mother Goddess graces the temple there

also with equal benevolence. It is difficult to know Her intention. Let us see!" Thereafter

she closed her eyes in deep circumspection.

Sayan and others disembarked.

There was no message at the ASM office for them. They kept on standing at platform

number one for some time. There was no vacant bench there either. So they were

compelled to enter the canteen. Sayan was hungry but unwilling to eat now because of

the uncertainty that engulfed them. His grandpa bought three bottles of cold drinks for

them.

Grandpa said: "Shall I inform Sadhika that even the ASM office is not ware of anything

regarding Shyamal?" Sefali stopped him. She did not like Sadhika from the very

beginning. She said: "We are bound for Tarapith only. Why should we change our plan

based on some unknown woman's advice?"

The TTE's of Khana junction were in the canteen. They were worried when Sayan told

them that till then there was no news of his father. The fellows behaved so nicely now

that Sayan was surprised. They told him: "Write down your father's name and

designation on this piece of paper. We will get the name announced over the public

address systems of all stations between Howrah and Rampurhat."

Sayan most willingly agreed to their request.  

 

Sayan looked back at the space where she was standing so long. The space was vacant

Now, only a ballpoint pen was lying on the floor. He picked it up and found that there

was nothing special about it. If the head was pressed the tip emerged from inside the

cavity. A brown tube with a transparent mid section formed the main body of the pen.

Sayan kept the unclaimed pen in his pocket and forgot about it.

Though Sayan was only thirteen and the Santiniketan girl might have been eighteen or so,

he felt a strong sense of attachment towards her. He didn't know why. So long the girl

was there, he felt okay. With her departure, suddenly many things appeared meaningless

to him. He was very fond of girls of that age group and felt that his mother had deprived

him of the chance to talk to the girl in the last one hour of the journey by denying her to

sit next to him.

The girl must have been a higher secondary student studying in the prestigious institution

at Santiniketan. Sayan could have learnt so many things related to his studies from her.

But the reality was that he couldn't even know her name. Mothers were sometimes very

cruel and possessive, thought Sayan. His mother had started snoring once the train left

Burdwan. It might be that the girl's father was after all right in terming Sayan's mother

selfish. Shyamal would have definitely offered his own seat to her and talked to her

nicely. Sayan again felt the absence of his father. He was concerned for his father's well

being.

Grandpa, on the other hand, appeared not much concerned. He was talking to the elderly

woman sitting by her side. Grandpa was explaining to her the problems he had

encountered while building a new house for his family at Uttarpara. Sayan could not

follow what was the point in discussing such personal matters with some outsider? His

mother was still dozing and hitting against him as the train changed track causing lateral

vibrations occasionally. 

Everyone was at ease forgetting that his father was still missing. The last two TTE's had

advised them to inform the ASM (Assistant Station Master) at Rampurhat as soon as they

reached there. The railways had their own communication channel. That could be utilized

to locate his father then.

The train stopped at Ahmadpur station. Grandpa spoke to him now after a long time.

"Can you see the narrow gauge line on the eastern side? That extends up to Katwa you

know. You must have heard about Tarashankar, the litterateur. His ancestral home is at

Labpur, which is on that route. Do you know that Gandevta, the famous novel, was

written by him?"

"I do grandpa. Tarashankar was awarded the first Gnanpeeth award for that novel way

back in 1967.  This train has been named Gandevta express because it runs through the

area described in that novel. We have quite a number of important trains named after

famous literary works such as Geetanjali, Agni Veena and Hatey Bazare. Will the famous

river bend Hansuli be visible as we travel further north? I want to see that if possible."

"What is that bend? Whenever I try to tell you something, I find that it is not only known

to you but you know much beyond that. How do you know so much, Sayan?"

"I participate in quiz competitions in school. Therefore I have to gather a lot of

information. The story of Hansuli bend is another famous novel by Tarashankar.  A few

days back there was a news item that the bend of the river at Hansuli was being destroyed

because of unauthorized brick kilns excavating the virgin earth from that place. You will

find that human beings will completely destroy his environment in a few years from

now."

"Oh God! A small boy knows so much these days!" Grandpa called it quits and resumed

his chattering to the woman next to him, who listened intently, without uttering even a

word. Sayan was not at all interested to know what the subject of his grandpa's

monologue was. His mother was now wide-awake. She wanted to sit by the window side.

The train was not crowded any more. Most of the passengers had alighted at Santiniketan

and Ahmadpur. The commotion of the last few hours had changed into a relaxed

atmosphere. Sayan switched his seat with his mother now.

The woman beside his grandpa wore a white sari with red border and sported a large

vermilion mark on her forehead. Sayan did not like such a large red insignia on

anybody's forehead. It reminded him of blood. A thick and solid amalgamated tuft of

hair, typical of an ascetic hung from her head. It was said that formation of such a band

was because of culmination of certain spiritual configuration in that person. It inspired

awe and respect. She, therefore, looked deeply religious.

She appeared to read Sayan's mind and said: "My name is Sadhika. I know that you are

scared of me because of my exterior. But don't be afraid of me. I am going to a place on

the distant horizon. There is a small station just after Rampurhat. One has to trek quite a

distance to the west of that station, through the open wilderness to reach that place."

"What is the name of that station, madam?" Sayan asked her.

"If you go there you will know that also. A narrow path meanders through the rice fields

as you leave the station. The path is covered with red laterite soil. A number of hills

beckon you as you proceed. My ashram (hermitage) is in that place. Will you like to visit

that place?"

"We are bound for Tarapith, madam. My father will also go there. We have to wait for

him at Rampurhat station."

"What will you do if he doesn't turn up there?"

"I don't know that. My mother and grandpa will decide that. Isn't it grandpa?"

"Better ask your mother." His grandfather replied.

Sayan looked up at his mother to know if there could be an answer to this vexed question.




This book is available from Amazon.com    ISBN: 1430323094

 

I

In case Shyamal had really missed the train, he could still avail the Black Diamond Express, which left Howrah at quarter past six in the morning. In that case he would reach Rampurhat station (from where Tarapith is a short distance away), at least an hour later because he had to change to another train in between. In that case, the family would have to wait for him there.

"It is because of you that we are in trouble. Dad went to the platform to read your ticket. Why did you change your decision not to accompany us? Even last night you said that you wouldn't come." Sayan was unhappy with his grand father.

"It's because of your father's request that I agreed. I am old and infirm, you know. Therefore I wanted to avoid this journey. Now I am in real trouble. What shall we do? Shall we get down at the next station?" He wanted to know.

"We can't do that. Your son will reach Rampurhat by any means. He is on fast for performing puja at Tarapith. We can't go back now." Sefali was firm. Her father-in-law got tired with so much of talking and kept quiet now.

Sefali and Sayan continued the debate.

"That's why I told Dad to go for a cell phone. It would have helped us in locating him now."

"How could you locate him? The cell phone would have remained with your Dad. How could you send a message to him?"

Sefali wanted to prove her son wrong because she opposed his move earlier.

"I would have borrowed someone else's phone here and communicated with Dad.  No one could deny me that."

"And if the mobile phone were with you?"

His mother thought that she had won the argument.

"Still easy. In that case, Dad would ring back from the station."

"It is difficult to argue with you. You have ready answers for everything on earth."

Sefali gave up.

The train ran very fast now. All the three of the family thought that something had to be done immediately to find out a solution.  But they were in a fix.

Two traveling ticket examiners (TTEs) asked them to show their tickets. When Sefali explained the whole thing, the checkers refused to budge.

"We are not buying your argument. Do you have any proof to show that your husband had the tickets?  That he missed the train was just an accident? How can we believe that a railway man could be so careless?"

"My Dad is an employee of the Underground Railway at the city. He is not aware of the ways in which main railroads operate. If you had a son like me could you leave us like this and intentionally miss the train?"

"My Dad really got confused. There was a free for all at the entrance and my dad couldn't board the train. My mother is not telling you a lie. Why she should do that?"

Sayan spoke the truth.

The checkers realized that the argument might be valid. A child could not probably tie so many loose ends and fabricate a story.

"We believe this boy. In case some one comes checking again, try to convince him also."

They left the place thereafter.

Sefali was visibly happy with her son as she conveyed, "I am lucky that you are with me."

"You are talking like the neighbors."

"How?"

"Oh mom! I am referring to the last stanza of the ‘the valiant' by Tagore, wherein the poet said: 

"After the armed robbers were vanquished by the small boy, the neighbors would be thrilled to listen to the story and exclaim; luckily the boy was with his mother!"

"Are you equating the checkers with armed robbers?"

"Almost!" Sayan nodded in agreement.

Next to his grand father's seat was an elderly woman. By the window side opposite Sayan was some other gentleman. Many passengers were not lucky enough to get seats. They jostled at the aisle and blocked movement of passengers.

As soon as the train reached Burdwan, a swarm of vendors invaded the coach with their wares, mostly eatables and ploughed through the already crowded aisle without bothering about the inconvenience caused to bona fide passengers. Their shouts created so much noise that hardly anything was audible beyond the din.

Sayan had so far nourished a faint hope that by the sleight of some magic wand his father would appear, all of a sudden. But he was wrong. His eyes scanned that part of the platform, which was visible from his window. But there was no trace of his father anywhere in the vicinity.

His mother was asking him to eat something. She had brought dry food items in a big tiffin carrier, expecting Sayan to make good use of it in course of the journey. But the turn of events spoilt the whole thing.

Sayan still didn't feel like eating anything. He wanted to locate his father hoping against all hope. It suddenly occurred to him that through the corner of his eye, he spotted a figure resembling his father, swiftly disappearing in the crowd.

Was he right? 



This book is available from amazon.com  ISBN:  1430323094                                                   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I

In case Shyamal had really missed the train, he could still avail the Black Diamond Express, which left Howrah at quarter past six in the morning. In that case he would reach Rampurhat station (from where Tarapith is a short distance away), at least an hour later because he had to change to another train in between. In that case, the family would have to wait for him there.

"It is because of you that we are in trouble. Dad went to the platform to read your ticket. Why did you change your decision not to accompany us? Even last night you said that you wouldn't come." Sayan was unhappy with his grand father.

"It's because of your father's request that I agreed. I am old and infirm, you know. Therefore I wanted to avoid this journey. Now I am in real trouble. What shall we do? Shall we get down at the next station?" He wanted to know.

"We can't do that. Your son will reach Rampurhat by any means. He is on fast for performing puja at Tarapith. We can't go back now." Sefali was firm. Her father-in-law got tired with so much of talking and kept quiet now.

Sefali and Sayan continued the debate.

"That's why I told Dad to go for a cell phone. It would have helped us in locating him now."

"How could you locate him? The cell phone would have remained with your Dad. How could you send a message to him?"

Sefali wanted to prove her son wrong because she opposed his move earlier.

"I would have borrowed someone else's phone here and communicated with Dad.  No one could deny me that."

"And if the mobile phone were with you?"

His mother thought that she had won the argument.

"Still easy. In that case, Dad would ring back from the station."

"It is difficult to argue with you. You have ready answers for everything on earth."

Sefali gave up.

The train ran very fast now. All the three of the family thought that something had to be done immediately to find out a solution.  But they were in a fix.

Two traveling ticket examiners (TTEs) asked them to show their tickets. When Sefali explained the whole thing, the checkers refused to budge.

"We are not buying your argument. Do you have any proof to show that your husband had the tickets?  That he missed the train was just an accident? How can we believe that a railway man could be so careless?"

"My Dad is an employee of the Underground Railway at the city. He is not aware of the ways in which main railroads operate. If you had a son like me could you leave us like this and intentionally miss the train?"

"My Dad really got confused. There was a free for all at the entrance and my dad couldn't board the train. My mother is not telling you a lie. Why she should do that?"

Sayan spoke the truth.

The checkers realized that the argument might be valid. A child could not probably tie so many loose ends and fabricate a story.

"We believe this boy. In case some one comes checking again, try to convince him also."

They left the place thereafter.

Sefali was visibly happy with her son as she conveyed, "I am lucky that you are with me."

"You are talking like the neighbors."

"How?"

"Oh mom! I am referring to the last stanza of the ‘the valiant' by Tagore, wherein the poet said: 

"After the armed robbers were vanquished by the small boy, the neighbors would be thrilled to listen to the story and exclaim; luckily the boy was with his mother!"

"Are you equating the checkers with armed robbers?"

"Almost!" Sayan nodded in agreement.

Next to his grand father's seat was an elderly woman. By the window side opposite Sayan was some other gentleman. Many passengers were not lucky enough to get seats. They jostled at the aisle and blocked movement of passengers.

As soon as the train reached Burdwan, a swarm of vendors invaded the coach with their wares, mostly eatables and ploughed through the already crowded aisle without bothering about the inconvenience caused to bona fide passengers. Their shouts created so much noise that hardly anything was audible beyond the din.

Sayan had so far nourished a faint hope that by the sleight of some magic wand his father would appear, all of a sudden. But he was wrong. His eyes scanned that part of the platform, which was visible from his window. But there was no trace of his father anywhere in the vicinity.

His mother was asking him to eat something. She had brought dry food items in a big tiffin carrier, expecting Sayan to make good use of it in course of the journey. But the turn of events spoilt the whole thing.

Sayan still didn't feel like eating anything. He wanted to locate his father hoping against all hope. It suddenly occurred to him that through the corner of his eye, he spotted a figure resembling his father, swiftly disappearing in the crowd.

Was he right? 


This book is available from amazon.com  ISBN:  1430323094                         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ganadevta Express leaves Howrah station at 6.05 a.m. This is Saturday morning and a large crowd waited at platform number eight from where the train would leave in a short while.

"Are all these people waiting for Ganadevta express, daddy?" Sayan, a thirteen-year-old, asked his father.

"Yes, this is a long platform and can accept a twenty-five coach train."  Shyamal replied while keeping an eye on their belongings, his wife and his father.

"I can see people everywhere. How big is this station?"

"It's the second oldest station and one of the largest in India." Shyamal said in an absent-minded manner. It seemed that he was worried.

Sayan noticed that. He knew that his father would be irritated if he asked any more questions, and so he asked his grand father, "Is it really so, dadu?"

Sayan addressed his grand father as ‘dadu', who coolly replied, "It's not only that. Howrah station's twenty-one platforms handle over three hundred trains each day, serving more than one million passengers."

"More than one million passengers per day? It's great." Sayan exclaimed.

Shyamal took out the railway ticket that he purchased a few minutes ago from his pocket. He was a railway employee, and therefore could travel free along with his family. The ticket was meant for his father. 

Shyamal tried to read that, but gave up because of poor light on the platform. He talked to his wife, Sefali, in a low voice. Sayan and his dadu couldn't hear that in the din.

"Like us, are all these people bound for Tarapith, dadu?"

"If not all, most of them will go there. Many more will board this train on the way. Just wait and see the fun."

"In that case, we won't be able to get any seat."

"Don't worry, as soon as the train is placed on the platform, I will jump on to it, and keep your seats. The three of you can board the train leisurely. That is the practice here. That's what I was telling your mummy." Shyamal assured his son.

Most of the passengers were bound for Tarapith, a place of pilgrimage.  Saturday is auspicious for offering obeisance and getting a glimpse of the idol of Mother Goddess, the ruling deity of that center of pilgrimage.

"Did you visit Tara pith earlier, dadu?"

"Yes, I went there only once. You know that in spite of my age, I am not so religious minded. There are many like me in this crowd, who are going there simply to spend the weekend or to give company to their friends and families."

"How do you say that?"

"I found many of them enjoying themselves with wine and ..."

"And what?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Okay. Some of the passengers may be heading for Santiniketan, which is famous for a classical ashram-type university, established by Tagore."

"You are right." Dadu gave up because he knew that Sayan was so inquisitive that it was difficult to satisfy him. 

Meanwhile, the passengers laid a siege on the platform. The empty rake was then placed, and there was a free for all to board the train. Shyamal was no exception and therefore he could get seats in an unreserved compartment on first-come-first served basis. In the ensuing rush to enter the coach, his father drifted to another coach, which was discovered once they settled down.

"Where's my father?" Shyamal sounded worried.

"He must be somewhere nearby. Don't worry about him." Sefali assured her husband.

By this time Sayan occupied the window side seat. Shyamal was a restless chap; therefore it was quite natural for him to get worried. 

Shyamal's father appeared in a short while. He had landed in another coach with every one pushing and shoving everyone else in their eagerness to board the train. He could locate his family when things settled down.  The old man was a retired person, sickly, and very slow.

Sayan was not interested in knowing what was going on inside the coach. On the contrary, he watched movement of passengers on the platform.  As the departure-time approached, more and more people tried to board the train as if this was the last train on earth, thought Sayan.

"I am getting down now. I'll be back in a few minutes after reading the ticket. There's no light here." Shyamal told his son.

"What's there to read in that ticket, dad? I find that you are after that piece of paper right from the beginning?"

"I am not sure whether the booking clerk has issued a correct ticket. I want to find that out."

"Don't delay much. You are so forgetful that you may miss the train." Sefali told her husband jokingly.

Shyamal's father didn't pay any particular attention to the goings on. 

Sefali was now comfortably seated beside Sayan. She wanted to occupy the window side seat. That was possible only if her son   agreed to switch places with her.

It was dark even on the platform. So Shyamal moved farther into the illuminated area within the shed. Then he went on reading the ticket as if it was a vital piece of document.

Shyamal was deeply worried. It appeared that something else was razing through his mind at the moment. 

He was immersed in his mental world. The train started with a short whistle on time. Shyamal missed the train.

Sefali was now worried because she found that her husband hadn't come back.  Sayan shouted, "Look there mom. Dad is running; he is trying to board the running train."

"Can you see him?"

"You can locate him if you look from here." Sayan almost cried.

Sayan's grandfather wanted to pull the chain to stop the train. But he failed to reach that place because of so many passengers standing between him and the chain. 

A passenger advised him not to pull the chain for that would attract heavy penalty.

"Shyamal must have boarded some other compartment." Thought the old man and gave up. The train picked up speed gradually.

"Father couldn't board because the gate was crowded."  Sayan lamented.

"How could your father miss a train while remaining on the platform?" Sefali asked Sayan.

"He has boarded some other coach nearest to him and will appear later when the train stops at the next station. Since the train is connected from end to end, Shyamal can come to his coach even while the train is running." Sayan's grandpa assured his daughter-in-law.

"Tickets and money are with him. We will be in trouble if he fails to turn up." Sefali expressed her apprehension. She had a haunch that something was wrong with Shyamal. 

This book is available from amazon.com ISBN : 1430323094 

                      

 

 

Combo is a strange world. It is free from all living organisms. An eerie silence prevails over this heavenly body for there is no air, no atmosphere, troposphere, stratosphere, et al. It is free from greenhouse gases. All life from Combo has been obliterated due to accumulation of the killer gases several million years ago.

The amount of heat it receives now from all sources during the day is released during its night. It has been possible to keep the ambient temperature constant for the last one million years.

This planetary mass object - brown dwarf (failed star) combination named Combo is situated 170 light years away from the solar system.

There is no natural life or intelligence at this place. Only one artificial life-entity survives now.  Those who once inhabited the place created it.  This single entity survived by a freak of nature.

The living inhabitants of this PMO-brown dwarf paid with their lives for securing the ultimate freedom of Combo from the pollutants and the burgeoning gas envelope that was impervious to flow of heat by radiation.

There is a long story of development of science and technology here. Though the singular entity that survives now is artificial, it retains a natural flavor in certain strands of its existence, because of which the memory of the golden period of Combo is still retained.

The singular entity of Combo is called MAC, the master access controller. It is all pervading and embraces every little bit of consciousness of this place. It is very difficult to define what MAC is. In a sense it can be termed as living because it can receive and process information like natural intelligence. It even makes mistakes.

Looking at it from another angle, one may term it as non-living because it is immortal.

That single life, MAC, is the culmination of science and technology, which could evolve as per Mayhem theory of macro cosmos. There is no theory comparable to Mayhem's that has yet been postulated on Earth.

Roughly described, Mayhem theory is a trade off between living and non-living matter.  When the living world of Combo found out that the natural intelligence was self-destructive, they decided to do away with it permanently.

That singular decision culminated in saving Combo, albeit without any life in it. Even plant life, which acted as a sink of Carbon dioxide gas couldn't survive the high temperatures there.

MAC made an important discovery recently. It discovered that the planet Earth was passing through a phase that endangered all species there. There were millions of them still surviving on Earth. MAC was very excited at the possibility of learning about the unrecorded part of its history by extrapolating the situation on Earth.

The first thing that he needed was time, which was running out fast for life on Earth. MAC calculated that if immediate steps were taken, then it might still be possible to save life on Earth. That would provide him with an opportunity to look for his roots.

MAC came to know that the previous life that inhabited Combo had its origin in planet Earth. MAC therefore made a plan and started implementing the first phase of it.

His difficulty was in locating a subject on Earth. There were so many species and the intelligence levels were at so much variance that MAC was puzzled. Ultimately it found Homo sapiens to be the most intelligent.

The next job that MAC carried out was to find out the most intelligent among them, so that it could establish a link with him.  There was a complex process of DNA mapping and other paraphernalia through which it selected Sayan, a thirteen-year-old boy, for the important mission.  


This book is available from amazon.com, ISBN: 1430323094 

 

 Foreword

Some of us are of the opinion that science is the bete noire of religion and vice versa. This story is a deviation from that commonly held belief. The reader will discover that the two are indeed collinear as the story eventually unfolds.

It takes the ingenuity of an entity, possessing artificial intelligence and located some 170 light years away from the Earth to tell the modern man that he should do something immediately to protect his environment from the burgeoning accumulation of greenhouse gases.

What begins, as an innocuous short family trip to a place of pilgrimage in the weekend, turns adventurous for the thirteen-year-old talented child. Three generations of a family, in course of their journey by train to a place of pilgrimage, are caught in the web of events.

The oldest one depicted by the aged grandfather represents the past generation. He is carefree and happy; whatever comes your way type. The next generation, the present one, represented by the child's father is the modern man with a comfortable means of livelihood. He is driven by a sense of remorse for an accident that was, strictly speaking, not of his making. Both the generations are not concerned much about their atmospheric environment.

The mother of the child is concerned only with her family and nothing else. She is happy in a way and leaves everything else to God.  The intelligent child, the representative of the future of the human race, is however, much concerned to observe the continuous degradation of the environment. He evokes hope for the future.

Although it is true that the present day scientific community and intelligentsia have seized on the problem of greenhouse gases and global warming, they are yet to come up with a tangible solution.

On the contrary, the proponents of doomsday have already declared that the problem of global warming has turned irreversible.

Far away, in another world, some super-intelligent being detects the trouble brewing in this world. It is aware of the fallout of such trouble in the not too distant future being disastrous for the inhabitants of the Earth. That entity is much concerned and tries to help mankind protect his environment.

The main culprit among greenhouse gases is Carbon dioxide, which constitutes 57% of all such gases. If its level can be reduced, there may be an escape. This is too simplistic a solution to be believed. But it has been observed time and again that solutions of complex problems are always simple. Someone has to cut the Gordian knot.

The Trans-world entity thinks of an ingenuous method to communicate a proper solution to the inhabitants of the Green Earth. It selects a thirteen-year-old child from among the myriad of living beings on Earth.

This book is available from amazon.com, alibris etc. ISBN:1430323094

Occasionally I fly in a dream, all by myself, both the hands moving like wings. It pleases me to discover that although a human being, I can fly so easily. I take off from anywhere and then fly over the electric lines and trees with ease, gliding through air, over the meadows into wilderness, anywhere and everywhere, as if I am swimming in a big lake. But flying is lot more enjoyable than swimming because the body feels very light and a feeling of freedom sets in. There is another difference with swimming in that one can select the level at which to fly. You can go higher and higher just by maneuvering a little. It is so entertaining! But all the fun ceases as soon as the dream ends. I feel very bad then.

I have thought a great deal over the matter. Is the desire to fly embedded somewhere in the subconscious? Or is it a desire to be uncommon, which prompts such a rendezvous with the sky at large? When accosted with the question my friends have termed it as a figment of my imagination. I resigned to their opinion about me as nothing could be proved to the contrary till the other day. That is till I met the gentleman on a bench in the lake embankment. I shall come to that now.

The gentleman, whom I met the other day, was in the forest service. After retirement he came back home and was staying at his ancestral house near Vivekananda Park. He was highly mobile in his service life. His job warranted that. At the end of an action-packed career, he is now leading a peaceful life. I found him very happy, as if he was passing through his second childhood. On that day, early in the morning, I was relaxing on a bench when he came and sat next to me.

The lake area was stirring back to life with early birds indulging in their morning constitutional. The two islands of the lake were just in front of us. He was attentive to the greenery of the islands. Perhaps his days in the forests had imprinted indelible marks on his mind, which were undergoing a blissful rerun at such a congenial atmosphere. Tourist birds had taken shelter in the island because it was free from poachers. The birds had bleached the trees white with their corrosive droppings. His attention shifted from the greenery to the birds. Looking askance, he asked me.

"Were you not talking about flying in a dream the other day?"

"Yes, I did. I do dream so many dreams like that and forget most of them, but this one somehow stuck to my memory."

Pointing his finger to the migratory birds he said:

"These birds hail from far off northern latitudes in the winter in search of hospitable and cozy environment in the tropics. They undertake strenuous journeys across mountains and deserts braving inclement weather that come their way. Scientists have found a definite pattern in their behavior. They seem to be somewhat swollen compared to their counterparts here. Isn't it?"

"That seems true."

He continued:

"They live in rarefied atmosphere, hence their bodies become lighter to make it easier for them to keep afloat. The atmosphere here does provide them with not only warmth but greater buoyancy as well to make it easier for them to fly."

"But how is it related to my dream sir?" I could not help asking him.

"Your desire to fly is basically the desire to overcome obstacles. Human history is that of crossing the obstacles only. Flying signifies crossing all natural impediments. All animals possess a natural instinct in this regard."

"What about human beings?"

"The same. We are handicapped in our movements, as only the lower limbs have to bear our burden. This restricts our movements to land only. But the desire to fly or swim surfaces occasionally. Since all animals originated from the same seed, these urges are common to all the wanderers of land."

"Do you mean to say that birds, reptiles and other amphibians as well as inhabitants of water hail from the same source as humans?"

He did not answer my question but continued in an absent-minded manner.

" Whenever the mind is stirred for any reason, the sediments move up and down creating turbidity and many unknown phenomena come to light. You must have observed that you fly in dreams only when your mental condition is disturbed."

I never thought on these lines. I only felt great pleasure in flying. After flying for a while When I came back to the ground, peace of mind seemed to return. Towards the end of the flight the gravitational pull seemed to increase and brought me down. I wanted to know why?

" With calming down of the mind, is it that the sediments resettle in their respective places, and hence the deceleration?" I asked him.

The gentleman did not reply this time also. He went on elaborating his conception.

"My theory is not based on any scientific investigations though it is extrapolation of the theories established scientifically. The brain cells store enormous data within them. You can find its entire history imprinted on them in a yet unknown code. Once we learn the code, we can retrieve the corresponding page and learn back the art of reconverting ourselves to our earlier life forms in seconds."

Whatever he was saying was clearly beyond me. But there seemed to be some substance in it. The man deserved a patient hearing if not outright applause. I kept quiet and allowed him a brief rest. But he was very eager to divulge the truth that he discovered. He went on:

" Again, if you can read a page of your past history, probably you can change yourself to a dolphin, swim the seven seas and come back leaving the Atlantic. Who knows? You may meet your ancestors somewhere deep in the ocean, who can recognize you readily."

He laughed heartily at his own joke. This was the first time that I saw him laughing so openly. The interior of his mouth looked greenish. I could not help asking him one more thing.

"Is the future also written on those cells or whatever thing you mentioned, those are sleeping in the deep layers of our mind. If so, it must be some kind of a time machine, based on cells that are not perishable and retain workability across the enormous number of lives that we believe we pass through in course of our voyage through eternity?"

I could not help showing off a little.

His reply was more confusing now.

" Yes, it has the future also stored in it. Our life and death are like playing a prerecorded CD. Otherwise how could I tell you things, which you people, are still far away from discovering? Is the present day man aware of these?"

I was inattentive for a few seconds. His words were still ringing through my mind and raised so many questions that I wanted to ask him.

I realized suddenly that the person had disappeared.

A big frog whose exterior was entirely green jumped into the water of the lake in a few hops from below my bench. The next moment I found the frog floating in the water in front of me, the eyes bulging out and trying to say something very familiar.

(This has been published as one of the fifty stories in e-book "Tales for Ever", which may be downloaded from http://www.intuitionpress.com/Bookinfo.asp/id=48)