She was lying on a bed
surrounded by 3-4 women and a midwife. The walls of the room were clearly able
to feel her scream and pain. The pain of delivery was not appearing so much
troubling to her since she knew that it was limited to the delivery. But some
other kind of prolonged pain could be felt in her eyes. It was the pain of
anxiety, pain of fear if this time again she would give birth to a girl; as she
had already three daughters but now presently she had only two since one of
them, unfortunately or fortunately; died at an age of three months and few
days.
As soon as the baby was
able to take its separate breathe, coming out of the womb of its mother, its
cries were enough to create the vibration in the air molecules present in the
room. As the baby’s cries penetrated her ears, a smile of happiness and relax
spread at her face. She was happy and relaxed not because the pain of delivery
was over but she was sure that this time she had given birth to a boy since the
pitch of the cry was different than that of those girl babies and she was
proved right in distinguishing the pitch of voice as the surrounding women gave
their compliments-“congratulations”. The irony is that she was never bidden
“congratulation” before for the same work, the same pain. I feel surprised
and shocked why people discriminate their own children.
The new born baby was
lying under the shade of his mother. Everyone present there was wishing a
bright future to the baby. But who can predict looking at new born baby’s face
what he would become in life. His
grandparents were predicting what he
will become in his life. It was mere love and affection which was driving them
to predict or guess about his future-all the sentences uttered by different
family members in different ways but ultimately converging to a single
meaning-“successful man”. One more person who was predicting the same -“ beta
ek din tu bada aadmi banega”- was his illiterate mother. Basically, it was
the emotional expectation rather than prediction.
But all the predictions
and expectations were proving wrong as he was growing up. He grew in such a
deprived society environment where nothing was there to create and encourage
the urge in him to learn and study. In spite of his disinterest towards his
study he studied upto metric. After that he left school because of reluctance
as well as unavailability of means for further study and the environment in
which he was growing up. As the other village boys used to do, the same way he
had to work in the fields with his father in the village. This work also made
him tired within two or three years. Effect of environment cannot be ignored
or eliminated; it only can be changed to get best out of the prevailing
situations if somebody is there to mould is positively else one is driven by
time as usually happens.
He was innate talented
but who cared for him? None. He was a great lover of colours- a good artist; a
good painter. So he decided to go out of the well and was firm determined that
one day he would colour on the canvas of sky and people would look at. He left
his home for achieving his dreams. He struggled but having no platform as well
as no financial support it became tough and tough to bring his dreams into
reality. Still he continued and sustained against all the problems that came in
the path. He passed all his prime time of his life in the struggle. He was so
dedicated for his work that he never felt the necessity of life partner. He
continued his work of painting but no one was there to appreciate even his
master piece. He struggled and struggled and struggled and reached fifty years
of age without having any taste of success. This discouraged and hopeless soul
made his last painting and wrote “loser” instead of his name at the right
bottom corner of the painting.
He left his profession as
well as city and went to a peculiar city which was known for a particular
colony- a colony of unsuccessful and losers. He started living there hopeless
and without self-esteem. But gradually he resumed his profession because all
the people living there used to appreciate each other’s work. Without caring
for fame and awards he started again the same work with the same name but
happily.
Few
miles away in the west from this colony there was a village where a family of
three which lived happily in limited resources. But now time had changed its
mood. It became harsh to their happiness. A doom was looming in the yard. Many
days have passed socked in worries, pain, tears and fear. Fear was blatantly
spilling out of his paled and woke up-for-long time eyes if he would lose her.
While days were turning worse, nights were endless putting him on a test of
endurance. Every moment he felt the pain of her daughter as the moon changed
its position in the sky.
Her
health was deteriorating day by day. She has been the victim of ill health two
weeks, while she should have been playing all around at this tender age of 12,
panacea seemed to be harsh to this little child. No medication could what it is
expected to do. All the prayers of her parents seemed to be unaccepted. Ultimately it is God’s wish who to survive
and who to die!
He
did all whatever he could or whatever he was told to do. One thing he was
regretted over that he could not consult those good doctors who were available
in multi-storey building hospital of a metro city. He has no money but he can
sell himself to see her again playing with him. Anyhow he went to that hospital
and made her treatment for three days but of no avail. Her health was
deteriorating as fast as he never expected. He returned home, his last hope
also had torn out. But what could he do? The only thing he left with was to
pray. Pray may not have logic with her
health but it has divine magic that consists of complicated logic which a human
mind can’t ever understand.
Helpless
and wrecked, he came to the same room where most of time he had spent in the
last two weeks with her. He laid down her in the bed and he sat down at the
ground. She slept without speaking a single word to her father. That night he
has been sitting by the side of his daughter holding her hand completely
thoughtless, insanely. The moon was peeping through the window and was making
him feel about the time. It was showering all the coolness but the heat that
was transferring from her feverish body to his hand was not giving a single
thought to recede. He kept on looking at her face and moon affectionately the
whole night. Her mother sitting by her and her father side could not stop
herself, and broke down into tears.
Next
morning she opened her eyes but conspicuous weakness was ample to tell her
health tending to collapse. Without uttering anything she was staring a small
tree pot with its leave touching the wall. This pot was resting on a table
which was lying in a corner of the room. This tree also was not appearing in
some good health and this little girl attached herself with it emotionally. She
kept on relating her deteriorating health condition with this tree. The way I am dying it’s also dying or vice
versa.
This
kind of notion has housed her mind and most of time she had her eyes at this
tree hopefully that one day this tree would acquire its full greenery.
But
her fortune was pretty wicked that one leaf out of its countable six leaves
fell down the same night. The next morning as she woke up, her eyes went to the
tree as quickly as the sum ray might have entered her room in the early
morning. The colour at her face faded out as she could count five instead of
six. muted tears rolled down her pale tender checks. ‘I will die ...’ these were
her unuttered words which could be felt sounding in the air inside the walls.
She wanted to go to that tree but her weakness did not allow her to move out of
her bed. She did not express her wish to her father and stared at the tree
ceaselessly.
Now,
her attachment with the tree had grown more intense. Her soul was resting on
those five leaves and the day the last leaf would fall down, her soul also
would fly with that of this tree. Now he had to take care of one more entity, he
had to pray for one more soul.
When
doom is lurking all around, how one can expect something to go better. And when
all the darkness is sprawling in one’s fate, things goes disastrous. Probably
his fate had turned black. On the one side her daughter was moving to death
gradually, while the other side there was no sign of recuperation in tree’s
health. It kept on falling its leaves down and soon one day it left semi-naked.
It left with two leaves. With two leaves too little hope of her survival she
had.
‘Papa, I will not survive’, she uttered
to her father in a low and spiritless voice.
‘Nothing will happen to you, beta.
Everything will be all right’, tears spilled out
inside his heart.
‘Papa, tonight these two leaves
will also fall down, and similarly I will. Papa this is my last night. I am
dying papa. Tree also is dying.’ And she slept.
The
man kissed her hand and broke down into tears.
Probably
she had understood tree’s health up to far extent. She was right.
Unfortunately, the same night tree became naked shamelessly. Both the leaves
had departed from its stem. As her father saw this naked tree, all hopes had
died. I will lose my daughter. No, I will
not let you die.
He
came out of the room and started gazing at moon insanely. Then out sudden, he
rushed towards east without saying a word to her mother. He kept on running as
fast as he could and reached that peculiar place, a place for losers. Sweating
and breathless, he knocked at a door and burst in pain, ‘I need your help. I need
a painter.’ This colony accommodated so called losers but talented and good at
heart people. He along with him ran to some other door and knocked at and
shouted, ‘hey, somebody wants your help.’
He
came out. He was the same painter who had no taste of success ever. This
painter was told everything by her father. He hurriedly went into his room,
collected his colours, brush and all stuff. He ran along with her father to the
village.
He
saw girl was sleeping quietly. He saw the tree, lifted those two departed
leaves from the pot and put on the table. He pulled out his colours and brushes
from his bag and sat down to draw. He drew the same two leaves on the wall so
precisely that from the girl’s bed it was hard to believe that it was on the
wall instead of tree itself.
Next
morning she woke up and her eyes moved to the tree uninterruptedly. A most
awaited smile spread at her face as she found two leaves at the place. Vigour aroused
and self belief became alive. ‘Papa, I
survived!’
A
rejoice could be felt in her eyes and a new ray of hope again was shining in
her father’s eyes. As the days passed and those leaves remained at place, which
always would be there, she gained her strength. Now she recovered as fast as
she desired. It’s the will power which
can be as strong as God himself.
She
along with her parents went to meet that man who saved her life. As he saw the
same girl bidding her ‘thank you’, he reached the ultimate state of bliss. His
happiness was limitless. This was the biggest award of his life. He could say
that he lived a life which could be useful to someone. His brush had saved
someone’s life. He had filled colour in someone’s life. The day one is proud of his soul; one’s life is blessed and purpose of
life is proved successful.
