By Savitri Narayanan
Kailash opened his eyes to the sound of the Tamsa River flowing past far away. It was still dark but having had a good night’s sleep, Kailash was wide awake.
‘Get up, get going,’ said a voice from within but he didn’t know what time it was. Waiting for some familiar signal, Kailash closed his eyes shut and pulled the sheet over his head.
Not that at Mirzapur anyone looked at the clock or owned a watch. In the small village on the banks of Tamsa River, the villagers had their own ways of relating to time. Maji and Bapuji got up very early, Kailash didn’t know when. At night when Kailash fell asleep, they would be chitchatting – Bapuji relaxing with his hookah and Maji winding up the errands in the kitchen. In the morning when Kailash woke up, they would be ready to leave for the fields that too after finishing errands at home. At times they would have closed the door and left, trusting Kailash to graze their goats. Kailash often wondered if and when and how much they slept!
Watching their focus on hard work, Kailash, too, helped in his own way. They had three goats grazing whom Kailash owned up as his responsibility. Once he got up, often to an empty house, he brushed his teeth and freshened up in the backyard. He knew that the rotis and subzi would be kept beside the mud pot. Next to it would be a large glass of warm milk too. Kailash was eager to have tea like his parents to which their response was – ‘When you grow up!’ So, he continued to drink milk and grew to like it! Looking at the eastern sky he would put the large glass to his lips and finish it off in one gulp!
“Kailash, you still asleep?” someone called out from the street.
‘Must be Chintu,’ Kailash got up with a start.
Chintu and Kushal too lived in the same neighbourhood. Like Kailash’s parents, they also left early to work in their fields, trusting their children to graze the goats. Kailash had three goats, whereas both Kushal and Chintu had two each. Kushal’s black goat had a young kid which was less than a month old. Between the three, they kept an eye to ensure it didn’t wander away.
“Kailash, you still at home? Or already at the Bilken ground?” called out Chintu as he passed their gate.
Without losing an instant, Kailash rolled up the mattress and put it away. In the backyard there was water stored in the drum. In brisk movements he brushed, freshened up and reached for the glass of milk. Maji had kept the large steel glass in its usual spot, beside the pitcher. Still warm, as Kailash took in a long gulp, it felt as if it warmed up its path even as it nourished the body! As usual, the rotis were in the usual place too – in the plate ready to be eaten and in the tiffin box to be carried for lunch. Instead of eating, Kailash rolled up the rotis, pushed them too into the lunch bag and stepped out.
***
Being from the same neighbourhood, the boys bonded well. Having many areas of common interest, they had lots to talk about and over the years their friendship had grown stronger. As their sheep grazed, they usually sat under the neem tree and exchanged news. Discussions about TV programmes like cartoons, films and sports events could go on and on. As and when they wished, they took a break to relieve themselves behind the bushes. If a goat had wandered too far, they would guide it to a nearby area. Often by afternoons their water-bottles would turn almost empty in which case they would walk down to the stream to fill them.
The sun rose higher, and the afternoon grew warmer. Yet surprisingly, under the neem tree it was rather comfortable! In its shade one could lean against the trunk and relax. Also, there was an ongoing breeze which felt good, never mind it was rather warm.
“I’m starving,” said Kushal, “Let’s eat!”
Of course, all were in agreement. Soon, the lunch bags were open, and the food was out. The contents were more or less the same yet they took joy in sharing their food.
“Wish Maji would make the chutney as spicy as yours!”
“I can’t have enough of your aloo bhaji. Mouthwatering!”
“The poories are delicious with the spicy subzi; pack more next time!”
When they finished eating, as usual they headed for the stream to rinse their hands.
That afternoon, they didn’t know what was in store for them!
The area was rather deserted except for a farm labourer or two who passed by occasionally. As a practice, the villagers did their errands in the mornings or evenings. Yet someone or other would be out on some tasks so somehow the children got the feeling of having people around.
Akhil, Chintu and Kushal were heading back after washing up when Kailash had just reached the stream.
The sunlight reflected, giving the water a silvery glow. Kailash dipped his palm in the stream. Silence prevailed, even the breeze seemed to stand still. The water felt cool against his palms. Suddenly Kailash sensed something sharp on his fingers. It was as if someone had gained a tight grip on his palm. The more he tried to pull it out, the tighter the grip turned. It was painful as if something sharp was piercing the flesh.
Do fish bite? Was it a snake? Do snakes have teeth? Could it be a crab tightening claws?’
Even as he was thinking, the hold turned tighter, and Kailash screamed in pain.
It was then that he noticed something large moving under the water.
A whale? A crocodile?
The pain increased, it felt as if he was being pulled into the water!
Kailash screamed louder, trying to pull his palm out of the grip with all his might.
What if I fall down in the water now? What if the crocodile eats me up? Where’s Chintu? Where’s Akhil?
“Maajiiiii… save me. . . . . .”
It seemed like a painful dream, if only he could wake up!
There was someone shouting, someone holding him tight and pulling him back, it was all so painful. If only he could wake up!
***
“We’re very fortunate to have this little boy back alive!”
“The crocodile had its jaws on his palm!”
“Never seen a crocodile in our village so far!”
“True, never seen one in my lifetime!”
“Just imagine, it could have pulled this little boy underwater forever!”
“Stop this useless talk! Let this boy go home, he needs time to get out of the shock!”
“Come betey, let’s go home,” Maji’s voice was calm and relaxing.
“Find the goats,” mumbled Akhilesh, “Must have gone wandering!”
“No worries betey! I’ll bring them along,” “You go home now,” Pitaji’s voice was so reassuring!
