(Chapter 1 Continued)
Caged in Thine Heart
In some instances, however, it appeared Parul was least surprised with what Hiren was stating. However, at one point, even Parul was taken aback.
Answering questions from Snigdha, he muttered – “Love cannot be defined. That’s the biggest definition of love. Another thing, at times love would hurt you
But the pain will not go away easily with any ointment externally. The treatment to such injuries of love is only a bigger injury. You ought to hurt yourself more and be prepared for such sad sagas....Only then there is an escape”.
At this Parul was forced to wonder what made Hiren make this statement.
Others remained indifferent nevertheless.
Back in her room after supper, Parul was lost in thoughts. ‘Jahar da’ ought to be haunting her since evening. Their first meeting was in the most interesting circumstances.
Parul had landed into the locality he stayed in a small township Silchar in Assam. They were for holiday at a family friend’s house. The town had an airport and was one of the fastest growing urban hubs in that section of north east India, yet, it had a rural characteristic. As Parul strolled near Jahar Sen’s house - the chorus of hens and cocks filled the air.
It looked like a typical hub of lower middle class people – perhaps a locality where big dreams would not often dare to visit.
The people looked either too busy running here and there or laggard – with no work pressure as youths settled around tea corners and on the benches parked leisurely in front of tinned roof neigbourhood retail outlets to gossip over Sunil Gavaskar’s century or Rajiv Gandhi’s blunders about Ayodhya.
Ultimately someone guided her to Jahar’s house.
She was already into teaching in a school in Durgapur and also giving tuition to youngsters in Durgapur. There was some money but teaching as a profession hardly excited her. Someone in their host’s house in Silchar suggested Jahar, who was working ‘as a journalist’, they said.
So during the first meeting itself with the reference, Parul pleaded with Jahar Sen about how better she could make use of the writing skills.
Parul also told him about her interest in journalism. Mass communication as a course had hardly made a space or came into the lexicon till then.
Jahar Sen, then a small time staffer with a small time tabloid published from that region, “Our Weekly Journal” agreed that for him also teaching used to be very monotonous and boring. And also a thankless job.
“I often thought those among the educated who cannot get anywhere can get to teaching easily,” he remarked wryly.
So momentarily, Parul thought in this lower-middle class colony could be some genuine well wisher for her. A real benefactor;- someone to help her.
“Oh, sir, you must suggest me something better….I am interested in these newspapers. How to write and all that?”
Jahar Sen sat on a tiny tin chair in front of Parul. He shook his left hand somewhat awkwardly in the air and then he moved his buttock a bit.
Parul sat impatiently. For her, this effort had to be result oriented. Otherwise, why should she struggle to reach Jahar Sen’s house?
Should she exploit this moment or not? Making use of every moment in life means what’s life. Those days, she had little of other sentiments.
Jahar Sen was still sitting silently. He closed his eyes at one time and perhaps he was suddenly hit by the thought that there’s no harm in helping Parul.
He opened his eyes as if he found something he was exploring!
Apparently lost in himself, as he stared towards the medium sized wall clock, Parul was again getting impatient. If he was not forthcoming to help her, she should not be wasting time here.
A visit to Silchar’s famous Kacha Kanti temple with family members would be a better option or even the lazy evening walk by the bank of the river Barak.
The fan was moving above in the room but it was of little help. Parul kept sweating and momentarily thought people’s ideas and dreams should keep changing.
Change is the essence of life – it’s not being selfish as some old idealistic fanatic would say. The word ‘selfish’ even those days used to get replaced by ‘pragmatism’ in Parul’s dictionary.
The world is also changing and in mainland India the IT revolution and related issues were slowly finding their space. Some changes were coming in this world faster than ever before.
Parul was not only being pragmatic, she was almost turning a visionary. What’s important in this life is – what you attain for yourself. That’s success!
Nothing to be apologetic about being successful – Parul almost told her subconscious mind.
The silence was broken suddenly. “So, you do one thing…,” softly suggested Jahar. “Write for me two articles. BUT newspaper writing is not writing essays”….He further said, – “We need some new perspectives on issues concerning young people. You can do a good job; write one on the drainage system in Silchar. Focus a bit of comparison with Durgapur – that’s a planned township in West Bengal”.
He continued: “Things are only turning bad to worse in Silchar. But try to make your piece out of box.”
Parul did not expect an on hand assignment. She stared at Jahar and said, “But can I do it ? You said you want the article for your newspaper”.
Jahar sounded emphatic – “Try to raise questions on what citizens themselves do…well I should not prejudice your thoughts,” he said and paused for a while.
“Any other ideas, I mean topic sir?” – Parul was again restless.
“Well, write about anything you feel strongly about. The restrictions young girls face in society. The discrimination, do your brothers get some special treatment? “
“Should I submit those by the next two-three days?” Parul asked. She knew they were hardly in Silchar for the next ten days.
“Yes. That should be okay….It is encouraging that a young woman like you wants to explore journalism…,” Jahar Sen said.
He went on speaking emphatically but displaying a sense of hidden pride – “It’s a good profession but it has its hurdles. Money will seldom come; but you can work for the society…there’s a satisfaction”.
Parul simply grinned. She saw Jahar touching his forehead as if he was trying to figure out something more to tell Parul.
But Parul thought he had already told her the operative part and she stood up to
move.
Jahar on the other side of the room took out a book from his shelf. It was a
collection of poems. “Palgraves Golden Treasure”. He quickly jotted down a
line on it… Roads are permanent. One has never seen these long lanes and roads reach their destinations.
Parul was still wondering what those lines would mean.
Jahar broke the silence again, saying softly, “This is my favourite book…..you
should like it”.
Parul’s first piece on student politics and the communists influence in West
Bengal went down well.
Ultimately she started to contribute regularly for Jahar’s newspaper, the modest
payment was only a big morale booster and she was having all the fun.
She had returned to Durgapur but now that she was writing for the paper, their
family also would visit Silchar for some minor family functions at her father’s
friend’s house.
Parul made suitable use of her visits to interact with Jahar Sen.
The meetings would cover discussions on a wide range of subjects. During one
such interaction, they started talking perhaps more intensely about communism
and why literary figure Rabindranath Tagore was dubbed as a ‘reactionary’.
Jahar would be very candid.
At one point he told her that some parties and politicians have failed to understand the true fabric of modern India. The rigid ideas of fundamentalism and pseudo nationalism would soon become the order of the day, he expressed apprehension.
 |
| Tagore had visited Bilaspur (Chhattisgarh) |
He even blamed the Leftists. Jahar said there was no justification of bringing
down statues of Bengal’s noted philanthropist and scholar Ishwar Chandra
Vidyasagar. Jahar would equally blame the right wing parties.
“The real purpose of education is to teach an individual to think sincerely and
also critically about the country and do not forget the universities and colleges
are the real origin sources of such divergent thinking”.
One day in the midst of those debates, Parul told Jahar: “See, recently I read
somewhere what Sydney Harris had said...”
“What’s it about...”,” asked Jahar.
“In effect, there is a difference between nationalism and patriotism. Sydney says
– a nationalist is proud of his country for anything and everything. Patriotism is
also about national pride but not blind following. Here the attitude is to create a
responsibility, but so called nationalism brings in arrogance and mobocracy and
anarchy”.
The discussions would be on these serious issues and where was the time to talk
romance.
Moreover, she also started to get a feeling that Jahar was perhaps least bothered
about love, romance and wedlock. Friendship is more pious thing, he would say
and would often use the phrase ‘Platonic love’.
Parul understood things, but she was a normal woman – an ordinary middle class girl pragmatic about life and on home front she had pressures to handle.
The parental pressure as happens in any family used to be about marriage and to
settle down with ‘good’ officers or company executives.
But there was always a pull. Parul always felt that magnetic pull towards Jahar
Sen.
The ‘food for thought’, as she had learned a few years back would now come intimidating.
Jahar also perhaps understood himself better. He was slowly turning into a thinking political creature. The intellectual activism he started flirting with after joining journalism was now seeking to fly up in the sky.
But he did not believe in fortune telling or so, never. Once they happened to visit a temple together in Guwahati - some months later - where everyone was making a beeline to meet the octogenarian priest who would tell people’s future by face reading or reading palms.
Jahar would dismiss these. But more than passing any verdict on the fortune teller or the very art of fortune telling itself, he would make remarks on his own fate.
“I have no future, somehow I get a feeling. It is totally blank”.
Their friendship was no longer between two strangers and meeting up for professional chats or exchange of notes. It grew intimate and they would often have long walks or travel to different places. Mostly, it would be tourism travel and occasionally Jahar would mix professional duties with the same.
But he struck a right balance and hence Parul did not find ready reasons to open some quarrels.
However, at times there would be heated arguments on some political issues. At times discussions would be about some protagonists in fictions or even Hollywood or Bengali cinema. None had much liking for Hindi movies of course.
On one such occasion, incidentally in tourist-haven Shillong, they started discussing genuine love and matters related to the wedlock of a film character.
Parul was annoyed by the way Jahar took a prejudiced line on the female character and the women in general. Jahar said – “Marriages or wedlocks are in general sense traps set by women. It is not about love or relationships. Women look for economic protection or a good career in these marriages”.
Parul obviously could not take it lightly and sounded her disapproval eloquently. Jahar was not to give up. He shot back “You know at times, marriage would play spoilsport to love or intimate friendship between two individuals. I can be that ineluctable hero who refuses to marry his lover. His fear is that wedlock will spoil love and in the process, he would lose her. He wants to retain the lover as a lover and a friend for lifelong and eternity”.
Parul had to get angry. But she was also cautious and did not give any impression that she too was keen for marriage with Jahar preferably.
Actually, back home pressure was mounting that she should get married; and 'settle down' - as her parents used to say. At times she thought - they were asking her - "Please adjust, get into the wedlock".
The phrase 'Please adjust' - she presumed had to be typically Indian as if the fifth man wants to sit on a bench which can otherwise hardly accommodate three.
Gradually, Parul had taken the discussion into another subject so that there was no fight or misunderstanding. On delicate issues such as these, Parul would be generally cautious.
She also realised slowly that she was getting protective and cautious about Jahar. About his mood, etc..Is she already love-smitten?
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