In the South Western parts of Assam, where the landmasses of India and Bangladesh approach each other, the River Brahmaputra is impressively vast; when the river inundates the plains every monsoon, only the current attempts to maintain some semblance of direction- which way is Assam , which way is Bangladesh. People from each side of the river creep past barbed wires and Border Security Forces under the covers of moonless nights; some say they cross the river in boats, others say they crawl under the porous fencing at Mankachar.
On the Indian plains, a few sparsely populated settlements dot the landscape immediately bordering the border. Lush green vegetation finds one of their favorite places and grows in all its splendor and abundance. One normal rainy evening, in these parts of the world it rained almost everyday, Bishnu was rushing home to be in time for dinner; guests were coming to dinner that evening and his mother had repeatedly reminded him to close shop early and get back home in time. Although he had started early, he had chanced upon an old friend and had got delayed. Now running late and not wanting to irk his mother, Bishnu decided to take the shortcut through the small forest that separated his house from the main road. As he thrashed his way through the thick undergrowth, he became aware of a soft rustling sound following him, as if something was stalking him. Assuming it was some animal, he whirled around only to see a girl hurriedly trying to hide behind a much thinner tree. Her clothes were wet and soiled and she had wrapped her face in a “dupatta” leaving just the eyes exposed. Bishnu immediately guessed that she was from across the river and was instantly on his alert- these people were no good! As the two stared at each other afraid, defying and challenging, Bishnu calmed down a bit “she is a girl after all”, he thought bravely.
“Why were you following me?”he demanded.
The girl remained silent, continuing to peer from behind the tree, unblinking.
“Are you alone?” Bishnu tried again, not really expecting an answering.
The girl continued starring, her eyes not wavering from Bishnu even for a moment, prompting Bishnu to wonder if she was dumb.
“You from across the river, aren’t you?” he tried again.
This time she nodded.
Spurred by the girls nod, Bishnu continued “Why are you alone?”
“My brothers were caught by the police and sent back, but I managed to escape”, she spoke slowly in halting Bengali. “My brothers told me to wait here. They will be coming here again tomorrow.” she paused, breathing heavily as if the effort of talking was very taxing for her.
Bishnu stared at her, not knowing what to say. A girl all alone in the middle of the forest, in an alien country!
“Look I cannot ask you to come home”, he said at long last. “My Dad is in the police forces and he does not like your kind. But if you come with me, I can show you where you can hide and get you some thing to eat.”
“How can I trust you?” this was the first time she had spoken without being questioned.
“You can’t” Bishnu said and turning around, continued his march towards the house. After a while, he again became aware of the slithering sound following him and inspite of himself, could not help but smile.
That night after the guests had left and his parents had gone to bed, Bishnu quietly slipped out of the house and made his way to the abandoned mud-floor kitchen a little away from the main section of the house- it was all very quiet and for a moment he wondered if the girl had left. “Girl! Girl!” he hissed for the lack of a better name. Very silently, a dark form slipped out from behind the shadows, stepping into the moonlight; she still had her face under the wraps and her eyes, catching the golden beams sparkled like a cat’s. Bishnu handed her some bread and a blanket “I shall collect these in the morning”, he whispered and left as quietly as he could. As he lay on his bed waiting for sleep to creep in, he wondered why he had not done the sensible thing, why he had not turned her in.
The next morning Bishnu woke up early and immediately headed for the old kitchen- the blanket had been neatly folded and placed atop a pan, but there was no sign of anyone there- the girl had apparently left. Bishnu picked up the blanket and left, locking the door behind him, knowing that soon he would forget that night and that he’d probably never meet the girl again. Destiny, however, had a different story I mind.
A few days later, while strolling through the village market, Bishnu heard someone calling out shrilly at the top of their voice “Hey! Hey!” As the voice drew nearer, conforming to human nature, he turned around to locate the source. A young girl was running towards him, waving frantically. For a second he thought about bolting in the opposite direction, but because it was a girl, he stood his ground. The girl came to a halt near him and clutched at her stomach trying to gather her breadth.
“I wanted to thank you”, she panted.
When Bishu did not reply or show any signs or recognition, she added.
“It’s me! From across the river, remember? You got me a blanket!”
Bishnu smiled at her as he recollected that night. Now that her face was not covered he realized how beautiful she was. Her dark beautiful eyes twinkled and shone, set against a fair, smooth skin. The cool breeze accentuated her graceful curves and flirted with her long, brown hair, which she kept pushing back. A smile lingered on her lips, as if waiting for Bishnu consent.
“Its good to see you again”, Bishnu replied.
“Listen I got to go now”, the girl said merrily and before Bishnu could protest, she hurriedly added. “But I shall meet you again!” with this she started hurrying away.
“Hey!” Bishnu shouted after her. “At least tell me your name. I can’t go on calling you “girl”, you know”.
“Izaaz!” she replied not stopping or turning back and scampered away, her long hair dancing in the wind.
Over the next few months, Bishnu and Izaaz met each other at regular intervals, initially once every alternate week, then once every week and then almost everyday. They were two young people, falling in love with each other and soon they became inseparable. Theirs was an almost impossible story, but they preferred not to think about the future. The two confided in each other their deepest secrets, shared their dreams, their fears, poured their hearts out. Their feelings were as vast and deep as the river which separated them and one day they succumbed to their most basic instincts. As they broke all barriers that separated them and made love to each other, Bishnu promised to marry her and give her a lifetime of happiness.
A month later Izaaz disappeared!
It started with Izaaz failing to keep her date with Bishnu. Although he was a bit concerned, he did not worry much assuming she was busy with her family. But after she failed to turn up for three more dates, Bishnu became anxious; he knew that only some thing terrible would keep her from him. He searched for Izaaz everywhere, he asked everyone he could about her- no one had seen her, no one had heard of her, she seemed to have vanished. Six months went by without any news about Izaaz and Bishnu had eventually given up all hopes of ever seeing her again, when one day, he received a letter- a letter addressed to him by some one across the river. With trembling hands he tore open the envelop- the letter has been written in great haste, the writing barely legible:
Dear Bishnu,
I was carrying our child. When my family learnt about it, they smuggled me back here. They will probably kill the baby once it is born. I am sorry and I shall love you forever. It was destiny that made us meet and I’m sure we will meet again.
Yours
Izaaz
Bishnu sank to the ground, clutching the letter in both hands and pressing it against his heart. Shamelessly, he let the tears flow until he could cry no more. He had lost the person he had loved the most, he had lost his child, he had failed to keep his promise.
Heartbroken, Bishnu decided to leave everything behind and with that intent, he joined the army. They say time is the best healer and as the years passed, Izzaz slowly faded into the shadows. Bishnu was a brave and honest soldier and he steadily rose through the ranks in the army, becoming a Major and then a Colonel. After nearly 16 years, during which he saw Action in Kargil and fought the Tamil Tigers, Bishnu felt it was finally time to return home. He requested for a posting in the Assam borders which was promptly granted and he immediately started for Assam. When Bishnu stepped onto the railway platform in Dhuburi, he felt nostalgic returning to his homeland after such a long time - sixteen years! As he rode the bus to his village, the familiar sights that greeted him flooded him with memories - he remembered his childhood, his college friends, he remembered Izaaz…….
A few months after his new posting, Bishnu was taking a stroll near the border, when he became aware of someone watching him. Drawing on his military training, he carefully scanned the surrounding area - a large clump of bushes appeared to be eerily distorted. Taking out his gun, in these parts of the world it always served better to be careful, he and cautiously approached the suspicious bushes. As he drew closer, a man jumped out at him from within the bushes like a tiger jumping on its prey, catching Bishnu in midair. Bishnu was sent crashing to the ground and the gun jerked out of his hand. The two men rolled on the ground clawing and hitting one another, each trying to get the upper hand. Bishnu, however, quickly over powered his adversary and reached for his gun with the intentions of making him surrender. But although he was weaker, his opponent was as swift as a deer and he made a grab for the gun too. The battle suddenly shifted focus as both men now tried to control the gun. In the ensuing confusion that followed, one of them accidentally pulled the trigger. A bullet fired from such a short range has tremendous destructive potential and it pierced a hole right through the heart of Bishnu’s adversary. As his opponent lay soaking in his own pool of blood, in torturous pain and gasping his last breadths, Bishnu realized he had been fighting a young boy, maybe no more than sixteen. He tried his best to stem the flow of blood but he knew there was little he could do; the blood would not stop gushing out. “Please take me home”, the young boy gasped, before making his last attempt to breathe and becoming still. As he searched the boy’s pockets for an ID, to his horror, Bishnu realized that he had unwittingly killed an innocent young boy.
In the days that followed, Bishnu couldnot stop thinking about the incident. Although he had not been charged with murder because it had been an accident, Bishnu knew he would never forgive himself. It was perhaps to rid himself of the guilt that traumatized him or perhaps subconsciously, he wanted to tempt his destiny, whatever the reason, Bishnu decided to fulfill the dying boy’s last wishes- to take him home. He collected some of the boy’s belongings- a jacket, a gold chain and a blood soaked ID was all that had been preserved, quit the army and made his way across the river with the intentions of seeking forgiveness. Once across the border, he bought a bus ticket to Sherpur on reaching there, found his way to “xxx” road, which according to the boy’s ID was where he had lived. The whole street was lined with small colorful houses and Bishnu felt like an intruder, trespassing into the cheerfulness of the neighbourhood with his the sad tidings. He asked for directions to house number 41M, from an old man sunning himself on his porch, who peered at him suspiciously and only after he had satisfied himself that Bishnu was not a thug, pointed out a white house a little distance away. Walking towards the house, for the first time, doubts began to surface in Bishnu’s mind; he wondered if he was doing the right thing, whether he was prepared to face the dead boy’s mother? His heart thumped madly as he knocked on the door and waited. As the door slowly creaked open and the outline of a women began forming in the doorway, Bishnu gasped!
It had been almost 17 years since he had last see her, since he had held her in his arms and kissed her forehead. It had been almost 17 years ago when he had looked into those sparkling eyes one the last time. The long hair had thinned a little, small lines had started to appear on the forehead, emphasizing the years gone by, but she was still as beautiful as he remembered. And then it slowly dawned on him- if she was the mother of the young boy he had killed……………
Bishnu pulled out the gun he was carrying, pointed it to his forehead and pressed the trigger!
“No!” a scream rang out that seemed to echo on forever. In disbelief, Izaaz looked on as Bishnu’s body slowly fell backwards in an elegant curve and after what seemed an eternity, hit the ground. Izaaz stood on the doorsteps speechless and motionless; she did not notice people running towards them, exclaiming and praying, she did not notice the person pouring the contents of Bishnu’s bag onto the street searching for an ID, she did not hear her neighbor gasp as the women lifted a jacket and a gold chain which had fallen out of Bishnu’s bag. Izaaz continued staring blankly at the motionless body, lying at her feet. Questions filled her mind; questions which she knew would never be answered. The overcrowded heaviness in her mind was intermittently broken by her neighbors wails “He killed my son! The Bastard killed my Son!”
Just then, a strong gust of wind found Izaaz’s front door in its way and pulled it shut. The brass number plate, dangling from a rusted nail declared- House No: 41N.
Sat, Jul 5, 2008
3 Comments