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 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
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.
