Murmur of the Lonely Brook (5 page)

Although Nisha had never encountered a ghost, she was not afraid. In her village, there was only one ghost, which stayed in the pipul tree on the outskirts. He was not harmful except to girls and women who kept their hair untied. But she knew that there was a ghost in Peo. During her stay there, everyone kept the doors and windows closed and switched off lights for a full seven days during a particular time of the year. One of her friends told her that this was the time when a ghost was taken out to do the rounds in the city. And anyone who tried to see him died instantly. Other times of the year, he was chained and locked in a special temple next to the Mother Goddess. The Goddess was also taken out in the procession so she could stop him from doing any harm.

Diwakar sat in one corner fiddling with his cell phone. Parvati looked at him and said, “Now, don’t start playing songs!”

“I can play songs that will drive them away.”

Parvati looked confused. She did not understand this gadget properly. She could never use it even after Diwa tried to explain it to her. She also hated it, as she knew that young boys and girls kept in touch with such phones.

After awhile, she said in a low voice, “We should never joke about them!”

Ria was scared and sat close to Nisha. “Let’s go to bed,” she said clutching her shawl.

“Don’t worry, I am here with you.”

She started cleaning the plates and, looking at Diwakar, said, “The fish was real good.”

Shevak gave a long puff and threw the bidi inside the bukhari. Parvati frowned; as for her, fire was a god too. And this was an insult to her god. But she preferred to stay silent.

“We had much bigger fish during our time. The river was wide and we could catch as many as we wanted. Now you get big fish only at the trout farm in Sangla. But who will pay so much?” Shevak shrugged.

Parvati got up. She did not approve of discussing fish when there were three ghosts roaming freely outside. She left for the bedroom. But before she left, she lit an incense stick and placed it near the door. This was to conceal the fish smell. She also decided to keep Devta’s photo under her pillow in order to ward off any unwanted visitors.

Shevak was upset with Parvati cooking rice so many times. He knew he could not afford to buy it with his meager earnings. He kept quiet during dinner but now he needed to speak his mind.

“Why do you cook rice every other day?” He looked at her frowning.

“It was for the fish. One cannot eat fish with pancakes.”

“Today it was fish, yesterday it was meat and tomorrow it will be something else. You fool! You always find some dumb reason to spend my hard earned money!” He fumed, paused, and then said, “If you ask me to get rice again, I will kick you out of the house.”

Parvati kept silent, as she was afraid that he would start throwing things at her and might even beat her up if he got into a mad fit.

“You better ask your dead father to get a full sack for the donkey he dumped on me,” Shevak fumed.

Parvati felt relieved as he stretched on his bed and pulled the blanket over him. She turned away as a few tears escaped from her eyes and soaked into her pillow.

Ria was scared of the ghosts and asked Nisha to switch off the lights as she hid under the blanket. In bed, Ria moved closer to Nisha and pulled the blanket up over her head. She put one arm across her. Outside, there was an eerie silence. She could not sleep.

“Will you tell me a story, Nisha?”

“I don’t know many stories.”

“Tell me something about your village.”

“It’s a small village, like all the others. There isn’t much to tell.”

“You had a dog. Tell me about him.”

Nisha brightened with the thought of Sheru. “Sheru was a brave dog. Once when he was young a leopard came at night to attack our cattle. Sheru was scared but climbed a young poplar tree and started barking. Being young, his bark was faint and it took us a while to hear it before we went out. We saw him clinging to a branch while the leopard clawed on the trunk with his huge paws.” Nisha paused.

“What happened then?”

“My father and uncles ran out and chased the leopard away. By morning, everyone knew the story and Sheru had visitors.”

“Did Sheru bite people?”

“Never! Sheru loved people and especially children. He always stayed close to my brother, even on long walks.”

Ria wondered if they should get a dog. It was not a bad idea but aama would never allow it. A dog had a conflict with her religious views for reasons best known to her. Maybe when Ria married she would ask her husband to keep one. A dog fit her vision of life at the end of the road. A small house far away from the village where there would be a courtyard with apple trees, a swing below a tree with pink blossoms, and a dog following her wherever she went.

And then they heard the gongs and cymbals again. His job done, the Devta must be going back. In the other room, Parvati folded her hands and prayed to God. She hoped that the evil spirits would be sent far away across the peaks. She decided to call the Lama in a few days to recite hymns. This would not only usher in peace but also keep such spirits away. Like all others in the village, Parvati had equal faith in Buddhism and the Devta. Her parents were a mixed lot. Her grandmother was from Tibet and made everyone follow both religions. Parvati was her given name while a Lama christened her with a different name, one adopted from the Buddhist scriptures. Her name was difficult to pronounce and her parents called her Parvati after the name of the wife of Lord Shiva (the god of creation and destruction and lord of the animals). In the village, the names and surnames had nothing to do with family lines. The names could be anything; except for official purpose, everyone used the surname “Negi” to be identified with the tribal clan they belonged to.

Shevak sat close to the fire and looked at his son. Diwakar sat in one corner with his cell phone.

“There is no news of Chotu. I cannot get in touch with him. The fool has kept his phone switched off.”

“But he should be in Peo.”

“I checked with your Mamaji, and he said that he left a few days back for Solan.”

“What is he doing in Solan?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have any contacts there.”

“Do you want me to call his friends?”

“Why waste money on a fool?”

Shevak was not in favor of Pravin finding any sort of employment outside his village. He was practical. He knew that he would not last long with his temper. But he also knew that the land he had was not good enough for two brothers. One of them had to leave to find work. He preferred that Diwakar be the traveler, not only because he was levelheaded, but also because he was sincere. “Tomorrow, collect the railway form from Dawa. Fill it out properly and give it back to him.”

Dawa worked for the railways. He got his job under the tribal quota and was in good graces with his boss. He said that this year there was a good chance to get a few village boys in.

“The exams are later this year. If you begin to prepare now it will not be difficult.”

Diwakar nodded. He was worried for his aaté. He understood his brother to some extent. He knew that his efforts were focused on the wellbeing of the family. He silently prayed for his success.

That night Diwakar had a dream. He dreamed of riding a horse with Nisha behind him. A white horse glided across the valleys in easy stride. And then it hit the river splashing water. Nisha had her arms around him in a strong hold. They crossed valleys and went far away, to a place no one had gone before. By evening, they reached a forest. The horse reached a stream and then it stopped. The place had trees with orange and yellow flowers. Birds and birdsong filled their senses. Both got down and drank water from the stream and then sat in a clearing. Darkness fell but soon the full moon was up. Nisha looked like a fairy in the silvery moonlight. He gathered some branches and lit a fire. Then they heard distant drums. Nisha got up and danced as if she were in a primitive trance. Diwakar sat near the fire and watched in wonder. And when she was tired, she came to him.

He said, “You sleep now, while I keep watch.”

Nisha sat on a rock next to him. Diwakar kissed her eyes and soon she was asleep.

Chapter 5

It was the first day of Fulaich, the annual festival of flowers. The entire village was in a festive mood. Early in the morning, three boys selected by Devta left for the high peaks to collect rare flowers, the white brahma kamal and the blue larkspur. The festival would continue for three days.

Boys and girls put on their best jackets with green topis decorated with small white flowers. Men dressed in traditional gray jackets and green topis roamed the village in high spirits, some already drunk while others were waiting to get drunk. Nearly every festival had a free flow of meat and liquor and most of the men drank to their hearts content, sometimes breaking down, sometimes fighting, sometimes simply crying aloud or laughing.

Shevak sat drinking tea at Lalaji’s shop. He was watching Ravi, a Nepali day laborer who earned just enough to keep his head above water. He was of the habit of beating his young wife daily. He had serious doubts that she slept with his boss, the supervisor, while he was on duty. He was strong and stout but had a foul mouth. But today he was jovial. It did not matter if the festival was local. He was working here and wanted to have a share of the fun. And since it was a three-day holiday, he had drunk a full bottle in the morning. He lost one shoe somewhere and now stood with only one shoe on. He started introducing every visitor to the shop in an amusing style. Balbir was coming back from the tailor with a new jacket that was specially made for the festival. Ravi stopped him on the road.

“Here goes our Lord Krishna, the great sarathi (Chariot Driver).” He touched his feet, stretching fully on the road.

He did not spare Shevak. “Here sits Lord Indra with Bajra (thunder) in his hand.” Shevak worked with the electricity board.

At home, Parvati and Nisha put on their gray dhurries (heavy gray blankets), which they wrapped around their whole bodies. On top, they put on shawls with colorful borders. Parvati had a shawl with three borders that her mother had given her. The more borders, the more expensive it was. Nisha’s shawl had one border, but she looked charming in whatever she wore. They also put on necklaces with large gold beads and earrings. Nisha normally wore a nose-ring, which highlighted her sharp features. Nisha looked at the mirror and felt sad. What good it is for her to dress so well if Pravin never saw it? She wanted to see the smile in his face—the same smile she saw when once she dressed for him to visit the monastery at Peo. Pravin was a man of few words but she could tell from his eyes. Both Parvati and Nisha started for the temple. Ria was already gone and playing with the other young people.

It was afternoon when Devta came out. Bugles, cymbals, and drums preceded the procession; two bearers carried him in his seat. The main pujari (priest), the Gur, followed Devta, while a few more people went behind with two sheep. Devta came out of the village and soon crossed to the other side of the river. He rested on a hill near a small shrine, which was empty of gods or idols inside. This shrine represented a powerful god, more powerful than Devta, once worshipped by a saint who came in a white robe. His power was visible, as there were no snakes on this side of the river. It was late afternoon and a fog slowly floated in. The shrine party set up a small tent and arranged logs for the fire. A few women mixed wheat flour with water for making poltu.

Shevak walked along with other folks to the venue. He was wearing his gray jacket and green topi and had shaved that morning. After Dawa gave him a haircut, he helped Dawa with one. The group reached the venue and squatted on the grass. Nearly all the men were there and sitting in groups—some in rocks near the river, some near the Devta—while the young roamed around freely. Only a few girls were there. The village custom did not allow women to take part in rituals and they always remained slightly removed from the Devta unless advised otherwise by the Gur.

Two men got up and raised their brass bugles in the air. The curved bugles glistened in the evening like two giant snakes. Their high-pitched sounds pierced the silence of the surrounding peaks. A bunch of barbets flapped their wings and escaped the comfort of their nests. Everyone looked up and saw the three men running down the hillside. The drummers started beating their drums, intoxicating the crowd in a slow beat. The bearers lifted Devta while everyone moved in to the venue. Soon, the three men came down, each carrying a bundle of flowers wrapped in a cloth. They all wore topis bedecked with white flowers.

The flower boys reached the shrine, where the pujari met them. Two men took the sheep to the shrine. Darkness set in; a light drizzle kissed the venue; the beat increased while the bugles and cymbals accompanied in high pitch; flowers were offered at the shrine; the two bearers danced with Devta on their shoulders and everyone clapped in unison. One went forward with a long machete; the beat increased; one man held one sheep by the ear to keep it still; the machete came down in one great sweep, and then again; two sheep heads rolled while the bodies shuddered for a few moments before they lay still, the blood dripping on the floor of the shrine. The age-old mountains observed the primitive ritual.

Diwakar sat alone on the rocks next to the river. He could see everything from there. He did not like the animal sacrifice part and did not understand why every festival called for the sacrifice of innocent animals. But now the sacrifice was over so he moved in closer. It was getting dark and the only light came from the huge fire on which the meat was being cooked. The flames occasionally escaped the sides of the vessel and licked the darkness. Devta was seated in the middle. Everyone sat in circles on the grass. The drums only slowed down a beat. Soon the two women came and served poltu, two for each. Then the women came with liquor, which they poured into the clasped hands of the men. The women made the rounds, serving until the stock was exhausted.

In the darkness, Diwakar got up silently. He had his share of poltu but was in no mood to have meat. He left for home. He did not feel like going to the shrine.

Shevak sat with others while waiting for the meat to be served. Others were feeling light-headed, but he was his normal self.

Naresh looked at him and said, “Why don’t you have a drink, Shevak? Today is auspicious and it’s an offering from Devta!”

Shevak did not say anything; he just smiled. He knew it was a useless to explain.

“One sip would not make much difference,” Naresh said again while the others looked on.

He was a true exception. Shevak looked around and saw everyone looking at him awaiting an answer.

“I am okay with my bidi,” he said. “I don’t drink or take things that make me lose control of my feet and tongue.”

“Rightly said,” quipped Arvind. “I also drink within limits.”

Everyone rolled in laughter, as all knew how big a drunk Arvind was. Only the other day he had kissed his mother-in-law, taking her to be his wife, and gotten a stinging slap.

The drummers beat their drums and everyone stood up. Devta led the way with his two bearers and all followed. The procession went from one corner of the village to the other, touching every house on its way with the message of harvest and happiness.

Then all headed for the temple shrine, which was lit with lamps on all corners. The women sat on the broad steps at the far end of the compound. Nisha sat next to Parvati. Ria played with other girls in the compound. Two boys wrestled and rolled in the middle. A group of boys sat in a group and sang a popular Hindi number in chorus. Mahavir and Kishori, the two deaf men, used hand gestures to chat with each other. Elders sat in one corner puffing bidis. A few women cooked poltus, while a few others guarded the cans of liquor. Dogs barked at a distance and then everyone heard the drums. Soon, the party reached the temple and rested Devta in the middle. The drums, cymbals, and bugles changed hands. Women came down from the steps and formed a chain holding hands. Men also formed a chain and then everyone danced in matching steps in slow rhythm, the two groups moving in opposite directions, a few steps forward then one step backward. Shevak now had a drum and was beating it in unison with others.

The dance went on until midnight and then everyone needed a break. Liquor flowed and half the men were drunk. Someone went and got biscuits from Lalaji’s shop. Someone else distributed candies. And then someone said, “Let’s dance.”

And everyone shouted, “Let’s dance!”

While a few got up on their own, a few had to be helped. Parvati pulled Nisha close and whispered, “Let’s go back home, I’m tired.”

Nisha felt relieved. She was a bit uncomfortable. She waved at Ria in the far corner of the compound. Ria was upset. She was able to find her longhaired boy and was sitting with her friends opposite him, exchanging glances all along. Today she had dressed in her best, used extra layers of lipstick and powder, and had plaited her hair with great care. This was a special day. She was in no mood to leave early. She walked up to Shevak.

“Aau, can you take me home later?” she asked Shevak.

“No, you must go now,” Shevak said politely.

Ria had no choice but to follow Nisha and Parvati. She glanced back for one last time and saw the boy waving at her. She waved back and ran toward home.

Diwakar woke up to the sound of footsteps. Ria came in first; she was humming a tune. She went inside and closed the door. Parvati came in, saw Diwakar sleeping, and left for her room. Nisha came in last; she found the door closed from inside and assumed Ria must be changing. And then she saw Diwakar. She walked up to him and pushed gently.

“Are you sleeping?” she asked in a low voice.

Diwakar opened his eyes. Nisha was standing close. Her face was moist. A few strands of hair had escaped her topi and hung loose.

“Are you sleeping?” she asked again but now with a smile.

“No, I am dreaming that a fairy is standing close to me,” Diwakar said, returning her smile.

“You should have gone today.”

“I was not in the mood, and I have a long day tomorrow.” Diwakar was in the team selected by Devta to fetch flowers for the Mother Goddess. But it was a different hill and a difficult climb.

Nisha left with a smile and Diwakar watched how gracefully she carried herself.

In the room, Nisha stood at the window for a while and looked at the night sky. She missed Pravin and thought about him. In her village, there was no such festival and it was Pravin who first told her about this celebration with flowers. Nearly everyone in the village who was married was present with their spouses except her. She decided to ask him to stay next year during the festival.

***

Dayawanti was in good mood. It was rare she got a leave from the shop. But yesterday she danced to her heart’s content at the temple. The next morning she was up in time to open the shop. Lalaji always came late. For him home was just a place to sleep. He did almost all his daily chores in the shop and behind it. Dayawanti swept the area in front of the shop and chased a stray cow away with her broom. Stray animals were always after the vegetables displayed and munched on anything if no one noticed. The shop was fully stocked, as people spent money during festivals on biscuits, candy, bubble-gum, plastic bangles, peanuts, wafers, sweetmeats, and more. The main earning came from the contractors who picked up monthly rations for the laborers. Prakash was the first customer.

“Sister, please make me some tea. And give me some biscuits also.”

“Take a seat; it will be ready in a moment.”

“Did you have a nice time yesterday?” asked Prakash, smiling.

“Yes, but see? While the whole village is sleeping, I am up doing the donkey work!”

“You enjoy doing it.”

“Who says? It’s only that I have no other choice. Aau should have sent me to the Gompa when I was young. A nun’s life is a much better life.” She came from a Tibetan family who settled here a few generations back. “I am paying for my past life’s sin.”

Prakash kept quite and lit a bidi. He could see a few villagers on the road with their herds of cows.

***

Diwakar got up and took a quick shower. He put on his brown jacket, green topi and shoes. Parvati gave him pancakes and pickles while Nisha gave him a glass of hot milk.

“Be careful and don’t run fast or else you will break your legs,” said Parvati.

“You think I am a child? The blessings of Devta will be with me.”

Parvati opened a can and gave him some nuts.

Diwakar got up and waved good-bye to everyone. “I will see you all at the temple,” he shouted from the gate.

Outside, two other men were waiting. The three went to the temple to seek blessings from Devta. Today was the day for Mother Goddess and they would go up the hill beyond which she originated. The road started at the back of the village. It ran parallel to the stream that served as a source of water for the entire village. The initial climb was easy. There was a narrow pathway often used by the villagers. Emerald patches of grass covered the route with small marsh marigolds popping out here and there in clusters. The stream ran down silently except for some sparkling protests against a few boulders in its way. Villagers also diverted part of the stream with boulders in order to serve another location where they had their winter homes. Very soon, they crossed the hillock and were on top of a clear opening.

“Let’s take a short break,” said Kiran, one of the boys. This was his second time making the trip.

Others nodded and everyone sat on the rocks. Diwakar looked around and could see that the village was not visible from where they were, although he could see the road. He could also see the distant peaks with meadows on them. From a distance, a herd of roaming sheep seemed like white dots. In front of them stood the dark granite peak in all its majesty. The top was sharp and jagged, eroded by the wind for a million years. The pathway ran through a dense pack of deodars and oaks.

***

Ria was up early and, to everyone’s surprise, took a shower. She knew she had to go early. She was sure the boy would be there waiting for her. She hoped that he would speak with her. Before she fell asleep the night before, she had rehearsed a hundred times; what she would say; how he would react; what could go wrong; how she would correct it. She went over it again and again until she was sure she had the perfect lines. She also made certain that she would not do or say anything that gave away how deeply she was in love with him.