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‘You don’t feel that what I’m doing is wrong or immoral?’
‘No.’
‘Why don’t you feel so? This “no” of yours has made staying back really difficult for me. Knowing that it doesn’t make a difference to you makes me restless like nothing else does.’
‘If that’s the case, stay.’
‘You know that if you stop me the right way I won’t be able to go.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘Still you don’t want to stop me?’
‘No.’
‘Get that baby aborted.’
‘Enough; don’t say anything anymore. Just go!’
‘But how will you manage on your own?’
‘I have said it, Chandar. Everything will be done. It gets done always.’
Chandar hugged Sudha before leaving; she hugged him back even tighter. Chandar tried to feel the movement of the baby by stroking Sudha’s belly. They didn’t speak. The gentle touch, the house, the windows, the sunlight creeping in through the window, the tree visible from the window, and the bed—all seemed to be wailing without the slightest noise. Everything was quiet. Everything was numb. The world was silent.
H for Haridwar
Chandar hadn’t thought about where he would go or for how many days when he left Mumbai. He went to the airport first. He asked about a few flights, but realized he didn’t want to reach anywhere quickly. Everyone was in a hurry at the airport, but Chandar wasn’t. He left the airport and headed to the railway station. At the station, he recalled his college days. He was reminded of a Haridwar trip when he had spent an entire night at Har Ki Pauri, with his feet dipped in the Ganga. Remembering this, Chandar enquired about the train to Haridwar.
Visiting old places is necessary, because that’s where our past meets our present. Rewinding life to keep living is also one way to move forward, after all.
Chandar reached Haridwar after two days. He dipped his feet into the Ganga and spent the entire night that way. When he looked at his mobile finally, he saw plenty of text messages. Someone was interested in offering him a loan, there were plenty of friend requests, unread happy Diwali and happy New Year messages, someone was selling off their house and someone was selling their old/new car. Some other person was trying to hawk a new ‘health plus saving’ policy. It was almost as if buying something or the other constantly is the only way to find true happiness in this world.
There was no message from Sudha. He got so dejected that he chucked his phone into the river. The moment he did that, it felt like his entire connection with the old world was cut off. He felt lighter.
Sitting near the Ganga, the entire world had become a river for Chandar. He felt everything flowing away with his old mobile phone. The Ganga’s water was extremely cold, but Chandar was burning inside.
Sitting at the Har Ki Pauri ghat, Chandar longed for Mumbai, the sea and the sand. As he reminisced about them, Sudha’s memories too gently diffused into them. In the morning, Chandar went to a nearby ashram. He tried getting some sleep after registering to stay there. Twice a day, the ashram organized meditation sessions that were mandatory for everyone staying there. He was woken up after a few hours to attend the session. After freshening up and eating his breakfast, Chandar went into the meditation room. A Guruji was preaching about soul and God.
That day, Chandar realized how useless spirituality feels when a person is empty on the inside. He wasn’t able to concentrate on anything; he kept thinking about going back in the next few days. He faked meditating for two hours. No one needs to be trained in how to fake things, considering the track life usually follows. Everyone fakes life in life at one point or the other.
Chandar put on a fake act for two hours, but couldn’t carry on beyond that. The best thing about life is that it constantly keeps waking us up through our bouts of sadness and desperation. Even God is a small part of a big act, Chandar muttered to himself. He was cheering up at this thought when the faint voice of Guruji interrupted to say, ‘Keep devoting two hours every day to God just like this and you’ll find bliss one day.’
Chandar stayed at the ashram for a week, waiting desperately for that bliss to knock at his door. Often, he felt he had to go back, but he didn’t want to return to things the way they were. He was getting more and more restless with each passing day. God is also like an adjustment in the grand scheme of things in this world, getting used by people according to their own comfort. Chandar couldn’t do this with Sudha, so why would he do it with God? He picked up his belongings and reached the bus stand.
Our real journey starts the day we lose faith in everything—the world, relationships, even God. And it reaches its end when all of those faiths come back and embrace us. All of us are born to believe in something. Getting lost is the first hint of the final destination. If only someone dared to get lost properly, they’d find a lot more than they could ever imagine. True freedom in totality means getting lost of your own free will.
People who follow Google Maps often take the wrong turn. Chandar had decided that if he was hell-bent upon getting lost, he would do it his own way. So he could either look for a new world, or a new corner in his old one.
B for Bus
Chandar took the first bus from the Haridwar bus stand. The moment he sat in the bus, he drifted off into the deep sleep that had been eluding him at the ashram. The girl sitting next to him woke him up after some time. The conductor was enquiring about his ticket. He said carelessly, ‘Punch in whatever is the last destination of this bus.’
The bus was headed to Mussoorie. It made a stop at the Shiv Mandir on the way.
The girl sitting next to him said, ‘The bus will take a lot of turns ahead, please wake up. Your head is falling on my shoulders a little too much.’
‘Sorry!’
