Distant Horizon- Chapter Four

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