Distant Horizon - Chapter Six

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.