The lonely last in my memoir Annyatha Mulyaheena.

The lonely last Dt.24.08.2014.                                                

      This is an obituary to a small Tendu(Kendu) tree, the leftover of the lost woods at the western side of my village Tulati. The tree stood for decades as if a guard at the end of the revenue demarcation of the village and a huge playground. The length of the playground was about two kilometers and it had a spread of about one kilometer.At the end stood this Tendu tree and there after we believed the area of village Khaira started. There was no dispute over the tree`s right it was ours and was at times an active functionary of our village customs

      Our elders always told stories about Tigers, jackals, trees. We too believed  domeoneso occult power converted a man into an animal, to be more specific a tiger, with the splash of turmeric water on him who thereafter was free to enter the woods to befriend a tigress and when he returned his wife threw the special water chanting the mantra to get back to human shape. Fantasy prevailed in our mind for long. 
Such a huge field was there but no one told about any sporting activity. Surprisingly there was no name to this huge field which we called after the name of a pond Nuagadia. So it was Nuagadia Padia means the field of the new pond. This pond is a huge pond at the end of the western most sahi. It was called new pond obviously because there was an old pond in the village the most famous Majestic pond Kastura.

Why there is no name to such a huge field in a village that loved to name small tiny piece of land such as Kusumadiha, Manduli muhana, Tumunia, Mahulia, and so on, this puzzled me throughout my life. I believed, might be this piece of land did not exist earlier and it was woods of Sal, Piasal, Kendu, Asana, Kuruma, Kasi, Mahula, Mango, Kusuma, Bamboo and so on, how could my forefathers name a field which never existed was a logical conclusion to my turbulent mind, and this tendu tree stood to witness my logic. 
When as a child one learnt to ride a bicycle it was the pleasure to ride to the tree as if one`s first expedition of one`s upcoming life. There was absolutely no Jungle in my village when we were born, we had no nostalgic attachment to any tree except the one that each family planted as a village culture, to water it from a holed pot hanged at some elevation on the Mahabisuva Sankranti the starting day of our Odiya calendar, the Baisakh, this was usually a peepal or a banyan tree.

     This lonely last of the lost woods was a tree of many contrast, nobody knew why it was saved from human axe even if no story of any God or ghost was attached to this tree, no villager cared this tree, it was a small tree that never grew, there was no yield of the sweet Kendu fruit on it in the springs that also puzzled me too much in my childhood. Might be there was an explanation. Yes it was very much attached to the customs of my village especially to the girls, all unmarried girls.

     On the last day of Raja, the three days festival of monsoon the boys played a customary game of Bagudi, a Kabadi variant at the beginning of the field where is the Pitha of Maa Hingula . The drum beaters Udia, Ferta, and others played their instrument Dhol at the loudest free of cost, to give their contribution in the celebration. 
So sad they could not play with the higher caste and we could not play their drums.
 All the girls of the village travelled by the side with their beautiful Raja wears so colorful. They would bid adieu Raja the festival of (start of) monsoon that made mother earth fertile for a season to yield crops like the Raja (menstruation) of a girl foresaw her future fertility. The girls were not allowed to walk on the mother earth to celebrate its tenderness on such periods but how they travelled, there was no air car. To make it symbolic they tied a paddy straw around big toe so that it separated them from direct contact with the tender earth.

     They would reach the Tendu tree where they embraced each other as if they embraced their mother before a separation for a long year, they made merry of their collective friendship, their feminine power, their specially gifted ability to be mothers in future. They wept, they wept to think that some of them must not be there in next year as proposals of their marriage was being discussed. 
Other villages must have many similar beautiful customs. These otherwise meaningless (ଅନ୍ୟଥା ମୂଲ୍ୟହୀନ) customs remained as signature of a village.  
The girls did many promises to each other keeping the Tendu tree a witness of their resolves in many.
This was not the only function there; they had to locate their spots of buried kaudis (Skeleton of small marine animal with a smooth concave surface and a surface with a grove with corrugated margin, that once was used as Odia currency) and tried to reinforce the identifying symbol that would withstand the monsoon shower till Gamha Purnami the festival of Rakshyabandhan when the tree would be revisited. Then they returned after the light faded, many a time they had to withstand a shower to see off the festival at the western end where the lonely last stood far away from the village proper.

     It was then forgotten till the date of Gamha, on which day the sisters tied a decorated thread around the wrist of their brothers to remind their responsibility of protection and love to a sister like Lord Jagannath and Balavadra had their rakshi from sister Subhadra in the grand temple. 
Ours was a different village, our eves were not given a sense of helplessness that they needed a protection from younger brothers, the logic was elder brother had a responsibility to protect his sister, younger brother is to be protected and girls had enough courage to protect the young one, I always loved the differences in customs and their reasons assigned, but was unfortunate and fortunate that my two sisters were elder to me, but all my siblings loved me more than others as I felt.

     On this day our girls not only wanted Baravaya from elder brothers but also started another festival KHUDUARANKUNI that is dedicated to brother`s protection and wellbeing. 
During these monsoons the male folks in past travelled the river and then the sea to places as far as Bali, Java, Sumatra and many east Asian countries for trade and fortune. The seven sadhaba brothers went for trade leaving the dear sister Ta-a-poi at home to be tortured by the six sisters in law except the youngest Nilendri. But with all difficulties the girl did the Puja of the Deity Khudarankuni (one who loved broken waste of raw de husked rice) for the safety of her brothers and they returned safe to save Ta-a-poi. 
So our girls started the month long festival from Gahma onwards. They went to the kendu tree with a Kaudi each. They would spot the buried Kaudi that they dug out and collected soil to be used to make the idol of the deity and rebury a new Kaudi for the next year. They carried the soil in a basket and returned together.

      At times they falsely located the spot and went on digging but the Kaudi was not recovered, she became extremely disturbed as she had to connect it to her brother`s safety. They cursed the tree as it was given the responsibility to be a witness and to remind her, the location. Sadly year after year the Tendu tree was cursed by one or the other so it never grew and a day came it vanished. 
How? I never liked to ask any villager. One may laugh at me that I am not worried for the vast woods of my village already lost and cried for the lonely last, the kendu tree at the border security force of my village at its wagha.

     The soil is now swampy, erosion had to come. Last I went far on a bike to reach the spot of cremation of my friend Ashisha Sahoo a lightening casualty and my bike was halted by sticky mud, in our time even in the heavy rain it remained hard to play soccer that the present day children may not believe. There is not the lonely last to witness my claim, Oh God save this green earth.  

Old Students Association. In Madhubana days a short story collection.

Old Students Association.

     Madhubbana High School was the only institution to learn in the entire princely state. After two decades of its existence the next high school was established in Srujanpur. Half of a thousand students under the active guidance of teachers almost fifty in number excelled in academics, sports, art, NCC, Scouts and guide, and in many other activities with wonderful year end results. Gone are those golden days, the school is now squeezed by different named school like Stewart, Cambridge, St Marry, Saraswti, Ganesh and Kidzees at private side in the nearby urban area, many semi government schools at the other end in the rural corners. The moral values and social utility of the institution is more effectively constricted, more than the academic results.

      A few, critically analyzed the situation and Rajendra a 1985 pass out was at the lead. He bore the pain to contact and approach till a reply came from almost all of his classmates, finally the Association of 1985 Alumni shaped up. Initial plan in the small gathering was to do a repeat get-together in a bigger way to finalize the future.

      From Birendra, the now American cardiologist to the matriculate trolley puller Narana Patra, the ever running nose suun suun Malati, now Mrs Commissioner to Priyadrshini the one eloped with her boy friend right from the final exam hall, now she herself is a grandmother by the repeat act of her beautiful daughter (year2005), to the still bachelor wrist watch technician Rajendra all became nostalgic with the idea.

From a grandmother to a bachelor all friends promised their joining in the event.

    Rajendra lived in a dream land with train of ideas, just like the way he organized the school dramas. He did not change, thought the idea would run viral from batch to batch leading to formation of common old students alumni, a big think tank helpful for the development of his area. He had no motive to collect a big amount from the American doctor or from the running nose suun suun Malati, always felt proud for them as if they were assets to his own family. Let them be powerful in their own places he pleasantly thought, they were prides of the batch.

The last get together four years back, was attended by twenty students and three teachers, made an appealing leaflet with their teachers’ messages; with warning for defaulters and absentees in the coming years as if they would be jailed if did not cooperate. It worked, fear of being fined!!

They replied, encouraged and thanked.

      He did not stop organizing for the last four years. Gradually his watch shop became the de facto office of the association. Anyone came to native place dropped in, sat on his shop awning, had a cup of cola, he arranged conveyance and other needs for them. He also was given several assignments by friends without any hesitation. He obliged all with love, a sense of responsibility, and with confidence of being done. It might have helped him in business which never was the purpose.

     The day of union approached, a huge success, all available students from all parts joined, most with their spouses and children. The presence of ten teachers added to the grace of the union after twenty years. From the very old Sanskrit teacher to the grandson of Priyadarsini, people of four generation made it a conference of colorful variety, a beautiful gallery, The Old Students Association – 1985. How charming was the scene when the priest of the presiding diety of Garha Madhuban Sri Narayan Acharya embracing the sweeper Chinda Mukhi at the height of nostalgia of limitless free school life, as pleasant as daily closing bells of the school at four in the afternoon.

     A few were bachelor like Rajendra, some had sons and daughters as old as the grandson of Pryadarshini, were playing together making sand houses at the side of the Ashokjhar stream that fell from a height at the camp site, at the beautiful foothill of Ashok.

   There was Mini the smartest, most talented, great orator, story teller, research scholar a PHD, who once founded a woman’s college and was its principal till government closed it. It did not match the policy guideline of not allowing two colleges in the same block headquarter. Others believed as she did not bribe, she could not make her project pass through. She could not cope with her wishes shattered, became neurotic. While her colleagues left for other employments she remained an adamant and useless unemployed PHD. All in the gathering did not lose their love and a beat of respect for this unfulfilled talent. She could not find a match neither did her four little educated brothers pursue her to be settled. She was still a talent, her intellect became her liability. Her uniqueness and attitude made her separate from the stream, like confined water detached from mainstream, swampy stale and stagnant,  just like many such collections by the side of Ashokjhar. Her situation, some old envious friends, compared like this. Mini at her time was many such friends’ first crush of adolescence.

     Her youthful chapter was of pride, promise, words, and of unmatched beauty. She was a victim of the adversity came with her own natural perception of progress, and her out of the way ambitions. Those were not positive development, rather her egos that made her confined in a friendless dark cell, she analyzed in retrospect but it was too late. It was her foolishness to expect to find a soul mate emotionally charged enough and ready to spoil his carrier in dark rural estate Madhubana. So her status was single. She had no age to feel like a butterfly, gardens no more had fragrance, flowers did not have honey, she got lost, soon her intellect pricked her and brought her back from the lost world, she swayed to and fro, she felt ashamed and gathered all pieces of her board to celebrate, yeah, to cherish the time with friends.

     In the last union there was Soumyadarshan , the name literarily meant the most handsome that he actually was, the husband of Chitralekha. Ironically the same Chitra once carried Soumya’s letter of preference and love to Mini as a common friend, the only one aware of the fact. She was not adverse but he became uncomfortable and insecure with Mini’s talent. The relationship weakened before taking a shape. Destiny planned and solemnized Soumya and Chitra’s marriage.

There was no soreness in between the two ladies over it, their daughter was comfortable at Mini’s arm in that gathering.

    Soumya was the main helping hand for Rajendra in that edition, he was a political organizer, the one who fought against liquor mafia, the one rare man who repeatedly became the Sarpanch of Madhubana as an independent candidate not bribing the voters, the one every political party invited to join with but he politely refused as he knew he was unfit to follow any party line that he personally did not like, might put him in conflict. He was the agro revolutionary of the area that fetched him enough to earn a descent living, did politics as an old generation Gandhian with passion and dedication, politics as social service, not to mint money. At Soumya’s active help and encouragement and participation  local friends Rama, Dama, Shyama, Sahankara, Zulfiqure, Ganesh, Vijay, Ajaya, Parwin, Priyambada, Sadhua, Sima, Prajnya, George ho and so many; Rajendra was almost at the finishing line of the hard work of last four years. He forced almost all friends’ consent and contribution. All replied with zeal.

  He was apprehensive, how to handle an expected big gathering in this rural area with no convention center. Soumya planned it out.

Unseen disaster shattered all their desires.

They at the last phase of preparation waiting for Soumya in a meeting came the news from Chitra about the accident of Somya , Rajendra with friends rushed to the hospital with all the money collected, his common sense needed no body’s permission, the entire Garha Madhubana united in prayer, all efforts from all sides was of no help. The undisputed leader of Madhubana could not be saved from the decision of cruel time. Every family in Madhubana lost his dear son.

    It turned to be a murder by liquor mafias as his anti liquor movement now was spreading out of Madhubana.

   Chitra gathered courage the Old students association stood by her side at these crucial hours.

   They did not postpone the planned reunion of alumnae.  

   The arrangements completed at the foot hill of Ashokjhara, the temple of Lord Shiva stood beautiful, the tents were finely led down, all possible facilities were made available, all types of country old recipes both vegetarian and meat items, special tribal food collection, everybody’s prior demand was fulfilled, they could not stop some friends coming from distant places bring branded alcoholic beverages to share with old friends ignoring the recent tragedy. They were found to gather at a distance from the teachers.

      Mini looked normal and happy. Kids shared chocolates, sweets, biscuits, and fruits, adolescents were merry making, each one seemed to be excited about their developing features. The people from urban grooming were sharing their Harry potters, the rural guys and gals reciprocating their jungle book, the hares, deer, elephants and how they themselves have to play a harry with many interesting interaction with the hill, the fountain and the jungle.

      When his mustache comes out and her curves take a shape he or she is the unbeatable flyer, the rural on the back of the greenery the urban on the roller coaster amazingly powerful, unstoppable.

     So many teachers were around Mini, may be discussing some important matter with the talent or convincing her to settle.

    Rambha was worried about her daughter of sixteen who had gone inside the woods with some younger children, in the direction towards which had gone some of her classmates she remembered very naughty, and two of them still bachelors, to add, they had gone with bottles. Thanks God some male adolescents with sparse facial hairs also went to the same direction, she was not afraid of them as was she for her naughty old friends.

    Birendra was second to Mini in academics now appeared as her advocate and counselor. He encouraged the teachers to convince her to settle, he himself tried to convince her. He considered himself to be the final winner in their long academic competition as children and as adults. Did time end here with no possible change; he forgot to ask himself.

He was like anyone involved and absorbed in a little immediate surroundings, shine his status being a leading cardiologist of the world.

Mini was smiling, she had chosen her own way devoid of any chance of losing, she was a natural winner, and the words of friends and teachers encouraged her, she saw her wings once again colorful, flowers’ fragrance returned, the nectar loaded in these were worthy to taste, she flew like a haladibasant, the saffron bird of spring.

     Rajendra was absent; he camped at proper Madhubana to see all the delegates comfortably reach the camp site, and then went to Chitra’s home to convince her coming with children. He in the name of the kids begged her to get back to some normalcy of life. Chitra the Brahmin widow with the white sari, vermilion less forehead, bangle less wrists looked like thick cloud at the top of the hill, dreadfully tender may spark with lightning and thunder, like the roar of a lion. Her attires notified herself as special not the common. Any way under her kids’ pressure she agreed and all of them reached at camp where the atmosphere looked as if all waited for them.

     First came the ever running nose suun suun Mrs Commissioner Malati and wept aloud that annoyed Rajendra. This lady did not change, always suun suun at every drop of a hat. Ladies around Mini left her and joined Malati in weeping, people showed their pity on her children, Aha chu chu. The experienced old teachers joined in chorus.

     Birendra and other men left the place of Mini, they dragged Rajendra to the non-vegetarian kitchen, where it smelt like alcohol, was very nauseating for the vegetarian Rajendra loaded with the aura of late Soumya’s war against liquor. His friends cracked vulgar jokes at him; some were seeing and showing forbidden scenes from their higher end cell phones (2005). Others under alcohol were peeping at the modern attires of the grown up daughters of friends that made Rajendra as uncomfortable as the young adolescent boys capable of observing the behavior of these uncles.

     Birendra raised the topic straight forward that it was the wish of everybody including the teachers that he should oblige their proposal of getting settled with Mini. He also informed Rajendra that she had approved it. No one revealed how the lady was told and persuaded presenting it was Rajendra’s wish. Now Dr Birendra the American cardiologist harangued the wrist watch repairer the organizer of the meet Rajendra to give his nod. It was a proposal for Rajendra which he never would dream even. What was the problem when the brilliant girl was ready urged the friends.

Of course she was made so ready that she was totally feeling light and flying like a bird, shedding twenty years of her life and as if an illiterate girl of seventeen. The situation made a doctorate who did not bribe the authority to get her dream project; a women’s college passed through, had to fall under pressure.

     Rajendra was stunned, they were joking, preparing the list of gift to be offered by different friends for a comfortable home making, batch 1985 was so rich with money but they were so poor in ideas. Rajendra in last several years obliged everybody`s local need with affection, he was taken to be granted for any reason and his neglected life decision was now sabotaged by them. He to oblige was a mere formality, expected the friends.

    How these people who had come for some fun only would be so cruel to him, he was not thinking the merits and demerits of settling with Mini he was critical about the trespassing of the limits by these grown up people who claimed to be friends. How weak was their code of conduct, he at his approaching forty, first time felt he was an adult, he looked red people thought he felt shy, but he had to control his anger, he badly wanted Soumya’s never possible presence.

He had some doubt on himself, should Mini think it was the whole purpose of organizing the meet.

   He controlled himself, he had to finish the job of a good organizer, and he counter convinced the gathering that he rejected their idea. He politely disapproved the teachers’ proposal as well.

Birendra now was in problem, it was he who had taken Rajendra to be granted, how and what to tell Mini now? So Birendra tried his level best to pursue Rajendra but of no result. He understood the injustice done to Mini and these guys could never rectify, but still he did not concede.

    Chitra could not tolerate too much of sympathy, she and Soumya were the center of last meet, she really fainted and was carried back home.

Mini the educated most cultured lady pretended to take the tide very lightly without making any scene.

     Next day …. Mini called over phone and told sorry to Rajendra, and thanked him to save both of them from an accident. Chitra too called, she was also speaking normally and felt sorry that she could not behave matured.

Rambha’s call was terrible, she alleged her daughter was shown few over’s of cricket one day match by Suryakanta, instead of in between advertisements in came some adult materials, lucky some boys arrived.

Suryakant, yes Rajendra believed.

    Now came Birendra who felt very sorry, they went to all three ladies` house and normalized things.

 Birendra felt very highly about his friends staying with a lot of difficulties and how closely they are attached with their own situation, connected to the fire of the woods, water of the Ashokjhar, the breezy air that intruded to the village all weather by the specific arrangement of hills, to the soil at their feet and the dark starry sky at night, he longed to be attached but no chance.

      Mini was taking tutorials of college students, Chitra was busy with children’s care both the ladies solicited their healing arrival, and Rambha she could have spoiled the meet yesterday but had enough patience to wait a day.

    Rajendra’s concluding remark was, “Past is gone better to live the present time as it is, and be prepared for the odds and evens of future.”

 He had taken a new assignment the un fulfilled vision 2020’s rural chapter that was the original project of late Soumya. Birendra, Mini, Chitralekha and Rambha promised to shape it up the way Soumyadarshan wanted.