Wednesday 30 April 2014

Telepathy!

June 1967. Barring me a chronic bachelor rest of the family members shifted to summer capital Srinagar from the winter capital Jammu. Abrupt loneliness turned tiring. For a change I went to my maternal uncle based at Naya Nangal. Change for one week refreshed me and tuned me to live a lonely life with a lookout for a pleasant company. On my return, I did not get a direct bus from Nangal to Pathankot. At Pathankot some personal assignment assigned by professor O N Labru was to be accomplished.
I hopped from Nangal to Hoshiarpur - Hoshiarpur to Dasua-Dasua to Pathankot and Pathankot to Jammu.

Quote from page number 104 ‘My Days’ autobiography R K Narayan:
“Sighing over a pretty face and form seen on a balcony, or from across the street, or in a crowd, longing for love-in a social condition in which, at least in those days, boys and girls were segregated and one never spoke to anyone but a sister-I had to pass through a phase of impossible love sickness.”

Unquote; Sighing over the two pretty faces in the queue at Hoshiarpur Bus stand for bus ticket, I pitied my person for traveling such a hopping tiresome journey all alone without a suitable companion. I wished how nice it would be if one of the two would give me a pleasant company!
With little hope, I sighed and occupied the central seat of the three-seater in the third row behind the driver seat.  Presently the bus acquired the desired speed and refreshed the passengers with the gush of air in the hostile sun. One of the two sighted in the queue contrary to my wishful thinking occupied the seat just in front of me.  I reconciled and buried deep my wish within and in reverie recalled the proverb ‘if wishes were horses beggars would ride’.
Thanks to telepathy! She turned her head and said to me: “……” Her loose dry hair tucked my face. Before I could make out anything of what she conveyed to me, the conductor of the bus offered his help to her. She paid him in exchange of a ticket and the scene left behind only a streak of the scent of the hair oil she had used.  Presently I went back to my reverie.
The bus terminated at Dasua. All but we two dispersed in different directions for their destinations. I broke silence and said: “Sorry I could not get you when you said something to me in the bus.” She said: “I wanted you to pass on my bus fare to the bus conductor in exchange of a ticket that I had failed to fetch at the bus stand.” In the meantime we occupied a seat around a tree meant for travelers. Self introduction and soon we became more than familiar to each other. She was from Talwara on way to Mukerian. Knowing that I was from Kashmir, she wanted to know something about Kashmir from me a Kashmiri. I added much more to the essay on ‘Beauties of Kashmir’ that I had learnt by heart when I was at the school. To the best of my capacity I portrayed Umri Khayam in words, at times under a cherry tree and at times in a spring shikara. My narration worked. She said: “I would like to tell you something, but I doubt your consent.”  A little ponder. I presumed may be she may ask for some money. I was attired in a three-piece English cut suit with a matching necktie and a snow-white handkerchief tri folded in the uppermost pocket quite contrary to my ready cash of rupees fourteen in my possession. (The total tip-top dress was not for more than two hundred rupees.)
I said: “I can’t promise blindly. Let you reveal yourself.”
She said: “Take me along with. A visit to Kashmir is my burning desire.”
I was taken aback. Momentarily I lost my hold on to the ground. I said: “I live as a paying guest at Jammu with one known family. Besides, I have posted a postcard in the name of my friend, a probationary Police Officer who may have come from Kathua to see me at Jammu. Your proposal is impracticable.”
She said: “I knew before hand your response. Let you give a second thought to my request.”
Second thought was quite contrary to the initial one. I retorted to myself: “You desired. God granted your desire and now you are backing out. Go ahead. God will set the stage Himself. Desire granted must be seized.”
I consented and tutored her that she shall have to pretend as a candidate for an Entrance Examination at Jammu for Medical College, and her father a friend of my uncle asked me to accompany you and facilitate your stay. Soon a Chandigarh-Jammu bound bus stopped to alight some of the passengers. Both of us boarded the bus for Pathankot.  Almighty came to my rescue once again. Thanks to the delinquency of the conductor who failed to collect the bus fare from me. In the bus we posed as a rightful couple to escape any self-styled social activist. Even Trilok Sharma SSP CRPF, the co passenger from Pathankot to Jammu got bullied.
5 PM we alighted from the bus at Shalimar Road near the then entrance of the SMHS Hospital Jammu. I knocked at the door of a room nearby. To my dismay a stranger came out. He said that my friend D V Gupta had shifted to a house at Afghan Gali. I took to
Rajinder Bazar Road to deliver fried fish at Standard Hotel Residency Road Jammu as a gift to my friend’s father. 
Coincidence as it was, we had a chance meeting with the Probationary Police Officer, G Khan and IK  at the City Chowk.
The tutored parroted statement regarding the Entrance Examination was digested by all but the probationary Police officer.
Two nights she shared the bed of Mrs. A N Gupta, my hostess.
The third day in response to the hard persuasion by the Probationary Police Officer I bade her good bye with a promise to get her back.
Nothing is good or bad, but thinking makes it so. Mostly such events are buried within. R K Narayan encouraged me to reveal otherwise I would not be an exception to many.
The whole episode was matching her name ‘Sopna’.

She was depressed due to the rude behaviour of her father who as per her statement used to beat her mother mercilessly under the influence of liquor. She was on sojourn to Mukerian to play ostrich to the apathy at home in the company of one of her friends.

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