Govind threw his bag on the floor and sat down in a chair on the veranda. Frustration was quite evident on his face. He called out to Bharati for a glass of water. He called out again, after a few minutes, for there was a delay in obeying his order. Still, there was no response. He went to the main door and found it locked from the inside. He went around the house, a bit more annoyed, to discover the cause of the disobedience. The back door was open, his two years old daughter was sleeping on a mat, and their dog was guarding her. Bharati was attending to cows in the backyard. She could not have heard Govind. On a usual day, Govind would have found a reason to initiate a quarrel, but today he was occupied with some thoughts. He had a glass of water and went back to the chair and his thoughts.
Govind was a peon in a newly formed private college in their area. Well, we can safely, considering the average age of educational institutes, call a ten-year-old college a new one. The college had not yet received a grant from the government. This was a common situation during the 80s, 90s and in some parts of the 00s, that the staffs in the schools and colleges in the interior parts of India, were working with next to nothing paychecks in the hope that someday these schools and colleges would get the government grant and they would be on the government payroll. Being a government servant was regarded as a good enough accomplishment, at those times, mostly due to the scarcity of employment and job security provided by the state. Even today the previous statement holds true in a large part of society.
The thought that disturbed Govind today had its origin in him being a witness of the affection between a young married couple. The Education Department had sent an official to inspect some of the ungranted colleges in the nearby areas. He was staying for a few days in the guest house of the college. Govind was given the responsibility of attending to him, providing him with all the help he needed and accompanying him wherever he went. Today, however, while waiting for him in the car, he could see the man kissing his wife goodbye before going to work. The semi-public display of affection, that had never been observed in this rural locality of Odisha, was familiar to Govind, who had spent a considerable time in his youth in Calcutta (Kolkata). His agony was rooted in the memories of a female character and the possibility of marital felicity.
Rachana, who was preparing to become a chartered-accountant, in the same place as Govind, was the daughter of a civil servant. A friendship soon turned into love after much hardship on the part of Govind. They spent most of the time outside tuition lying to their parents. It was easy to lie since Rachana’s father used to be away from home. The lack of mobile phones during the 80s prevented parents from checking up on them in annoyingly short intervals. But all the dreams were shattered when Govind’s father died in a sudden heart attack. His mother had died earlier. He was staying in Calcutta with his father. He had to come back to his village. The sudden turn of events prevented him from communicating with Rachana about his misfortunes. His father’s elder brother had a shop in the local market but the shop was too small to be shared as an income source among him and his cousin. He started working in a few jobs. Finally, he settled with the peon job in the college with the help of a friend of his father’s. Telephones were scarce during those times in Odisha. Also, addressing letters directly to Rachana was not an option. He could exchange a few letters with her for a few months with the help of some friends. But the letters went unanswered after some time and he was informed of Rachana’s marriage a year later. In these six years, Govind had also moved on with his life. He was married to Bharati, in an arranged marriage, by the grace of relatives and neighbours. Bharati was a girl from a poor family, with no formal education. She was a good wife in all aspects. She loved Govind but he never returned her the same affection. With time she got to know of Rachana from a photo and letters in Govind’s personals, though she could not read the letters, from knowing bits of her husband’s history (his life in Calcutta, the harsh situation that made him move to the village), deduced the relationship Govind could have had with the girl in the photograph. She had never confronted him about that matter. In due course, she stopped expecting anything from him except for the social security marriage provides. Their marriage had turned into a shackle binding both of them.
Govind went back inside. Bharti was still busy in the backyard with some work. Their daughter was asleep. Being assured his wife would be occupied with her work for some time, he went to his box and opened the lock. He was always careful about hiding the key and had told Bharati that the box contained important documents like his educational certificates and property records. He had hidden (or at least thought he had hidden) the fact about the letters and photos being there. He went through the letters. But before he thought anyone would notice, he noted down the phone number of a friend from one of the letters and kept the box as it was. That day, Govind could not sleep at night. The next morning, from the telephone booth near the college, he called up that friend. He got some details of Rachana and got the contacts of some other friends. He called a few of them. After gathering adequate information, he went to his work. Determined to meet Rachana, he decided to go to Kolkata and applied for leave for the entire week before the Puja (the Durga Puja) holidays. Incidentally, he only had less than two weeks before his vacation began. After college, he hurried up to the ticket booking counter and booked a bus ticket for Calcutta.
Bharati always thought Govind never cared for her. This was partially true. Govind was well aware of his duties as a husband and was conscious of his failure in living up to them. He knew he was going to cheat on Bharati. Well in his thoughts he already had. But, who does not? We are all cheaters in our thoughts. Anyone who tells otherwise is a liar. He could not find a suitable excuse for his sudden visits to Kolkata that day. The following day, he told Bharati during dinner, he had to go to Kolkata to attend a friend's marriage and since many of his friends would be coming, it would be a much-awaited get-together of friends. Bharati did not have any follow-up questions, she seldom had. Bharati knew Govind was ashamed of her being uneducated and avoided taking her to the gatherings of an educated herd. The next few days, Govind spent following up on the latest trends in fashion. He bought some new clothes, to match what the lead actors had been wearing in the Hindi movies. He visited the barbershop twice with different demands about hairstyles. The second time, the barber convinced him to apply a certain dye to his hair. People around thought it queer, yet Govind was blind to it.
Govind never intended to meet any friend in Calcutta. He found Rachana’s house. He had to be sure that she was there. So he went into a small restaurant in front of the house, found a suitable table from where he could observe the house. He ordered breakfast and chit-chatted with the owner a bit. The hotel owner told him about a lodging house in the same lane. Govind booked his stay there for two days. He had every intention of extending his stay once he was assured of her lover’s location. He went up and down the street several times, paused at every chai or cigarette corner and started small conversations so that he could keep an eye on the house. A car stopped in front of the house at about three O'clock in the afternoon, the gate opened and a lady came out and sat in the car. Govind saw the lady from the back and could not confirm if she was Rachana. He waited. The car came back after half an hour. This time he went a little closer. The lady came out with a girl, about five years old, in a school uniform. It was Rachana. She was wearing a saree and had put on a little weight. But to Govind, she was as pretty as he last saw her several years ago.
Govind extended his stay at the lodging. For the next two days, he observed the movements in and out of the house. Twice a day she used to get out at eleven in the morning to drop her daughter in school and again pick her up in the afternoon. He could have just walked up to her and started a conversation but he wanted to talk to her in private. The topic for the conversation, he had not picked yet from the thousands of ideas that had occurred to him. Time was running out and he was becoming a little restless. The fourth day was a Sunday. While having breakfast, he saw the gate open and Rachana came out of the house with her maid. Govind paid for the half-finished meal and followed them, maintaining some distance. They were heading towards the daily market. He observed them quietly praying for a chance to find Rachana alone for some time. Rachana had to buy some things from the nearby grocery shop. As the bag was heavier to carry, she told her maid to wait there and walked up to the shop. Govind got his opportunity. He trotted towards her and met her halfway. As he said her name, Rachana looked towards him. Rachana could hardly recognise the man standing in front of her. Time and poverty had not been kind to Govind. A once handsome face of youth had lost all its glow. The soon to be barren scalp was showing signs of middle age approaching early. Her face soon reddened with mixed feelings of uneasiness, fear and shame. She stepped a few steps back to maintain a socially acceptable distance as Govind approached her.
- Are you not able to recognise me?
- Why are you here?
- I was going through some of our old letters and wanted to meet you. So, I came here to meet you. Wanted to see if you remember…
- Remember what?
Rachana did not let him finish his sentence. She looked at the maid once, fearing if she was observing any of this. The maid was occupied, bargaining with a hawker. - “Remember what Govind? I am married now. I think you know that. Please leave. There is no need to continue this conversation.” She started walking towards the shop. Govind turned speechless. He had dreamt of this moment for quite a long time. His hopes were getting scattered. At this moment he did something, which he had done several times in the past. - “Rachna wait”- in a sudden move he held her hand. Rachana’s heart stopped for a moment. Her maiden self would have rewarded Govind to pull her this way when she tried to leave in the middle of an argument. - “Leave me”, she shouted, as she pushed his hand trying to escape. Her loud voice attracted the attention of the crowd. People gathered up and soon Govind was announced an offender. Rachana also did nothing to prevent them. The mob unleashed its anger on our poor friend. Justice is a far-reaching dream. We all long for it in this unjust world. Everyone that day got a chance to deliver justice.
When police found Govind, he was barely breathing. His clothes were torn. The ground he was laying on was soaked with his blood. The police admitted him to the hospital. Luckily they did not or could not file a complaint on him because the one to whom the crime had been done was nowhere to be found.
A week later Govind was discharged from the hospital. He collected his belongings from the lodgings. Dussehra was over. He still had two days left from his leave. But there was no reason for him to stay in Calcutta. He had made his peace with the incident last week. He went to the bus stand and got on a bus home. In the whole night journey, he could not sleep. He was anxious to meet the woman who had loved her unconditionally and vowed to do all he could to win her heart. He had even bought two sarees for her, something he had never done in the last six years.
“Journeys end in lovers meeting”- William Shakespeare
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