Amar exclaimed, “Sir, what makes you smile. Any joke?” I just said that it was just a recollection of one of my sweet family memories. The child cried out again for some more groundnuts to which the mother scolded loudly and asked him to keep shut. The child did not stop crying at all. I was looking in the direction of the window. The young lady apart from giving her introduction was not a part of our conversation. The child stopped his nagging when Amar offered some chips to the child. His behaviour was that of a jovial person. The rhythmic shake of the train made me feel a bit drowsy. I was thinking of Shanti all the while. Sheela asked me, “Sir, where do you live?” I said that after retirement from military, I settled at Rehalpur, my birthplace. I with my wife live there in our ancestral home.” Sheela exclaimed, “No one else. I mean to say…….” “No one is with us except for us old couples.” Understanding her query, I pointed out that due to a mishap I lost my son while traveling by bus. On Amar’s heaving a regretful sigh I clearly understood that Amar knew why I asked if he travels by bus. A hush silence descended in the row where we sat which indicated that other passengers were thoroughly following our conversation. Perhaps my extrovert nature shocked Amar all the more as because my face never show up any signs of trouble. I try to be as cheerful as possible in the company of others.
Sheela on the other hand said, “Tragedy can ruin anything, anytime. We should know the art to live fruitfully, proceed further keeping the past behind however painful it maybe.” These words from a sober lady was not expected, atleast from my end. On the context, I asked what is it that makes her advice so much hardened and strict in approach towards life. She said that in Maharashtra, when the devastating earthquake at Latur occurred she was the lone survivor of a hale and hearty joint family of eighteen persons. Her only relative surviving is her uncle who at that time was posted in Agra as a teacher in a reputed public high school. Sheela has since then remained with her uncle. As is the habit of onlookers or a roadside passerby, people in the compartment around us started hurling random questions of how why, when and what not. For me it seemed that she became the unwanted centre of attraction. As my nature goes, I cannot tolerate people giving unnecessary sympathies to the bereaved which are rather of no use and on the contrary it reminds a person of his or her weaknesses. To cut off the volley of questions, I asked Sheela if she ever went there after the traumatic incident. She said she goes there once every year to donate half of her annual salary to a charitable organization for looking after the surviving quake victims. She spends the rest amount for the education and healthcare of the children of prostitutes who due to social stigma can not study with students of the general stream. Nevertheless, I was very much impressed with her warm notion towards the downtrodden and helpless of the society. A person from my right side asked, “If all the money from the salary goes to charity how do you lead your life then?” The question though was like involving too much in her privacy, was a justified one according to me. She said that her husband Anupam Garg is an eye surgeon and that is why she does not need the money earned from school. Her husband also supports her cause. Such is the variety of people around us. Some people accumulate more while having plentiful and others give away their all without even knowing them. Such service towards the society is not so often seen nowadays, not even heard off. After her statement a low murmuring started among the people around. Presumably they were discussing the tragedy from all possible quarters of their imagination.
Sheela on the other hand said, “Tragedy can ruin anything, anytime. We should know the art to live fruitfully, proceed further keeping the past behind however painful it maybe.” These words from a sober lady was not expected, atleast from my end. On the context, I asked what is it that makes her advice so much hardened and strict in approach towards life. She said that in Maharashtra, when the devastating earthquake at Latur occurred she was the lone survivor of a hale and hearty joint family of eighteen persons. Her only relative surviving is her uncle who at that time was posted in Agra as a teacher in a reputed public high school. Sheela has since then remained with her uncle. As is the habit of onlookers or a roadside passerby, people in the compartment around us started hurling random questions of how why, when and what not. For me it seemed that she became the unwanted centre of attraction. As my nature goes, I cannot tolerate people giving unnecessary sympathies to the bereaved which are rather of no use and on the contrary it reminds a person of his or her weaknesses. To cut off the volley of questions, I asked Sheela if she ever went there after the traumatic incident. She said she goes there once every year to donate half of her annual salary to a charitable organization for looking after the surviving quake victims. She spends the rest amount for the education and healthcare of the children of prostitutes who due to social stigma can not study with students of the general stream. Nevertheless, I was very much impressed with her warm notion towards the downtrodden and helpless of the society. A person from my right side asked, “If all the money from the salary goes to charity how do you lead your life then?” The question though was like involving too much in her privacy, was a justified one according to me. She said that her husband Anupam Garg is an eye surgeon and that is why she does not need the money earned from school. Her husband also supports her cause. Such is the variety of people around us. Some people accumulate more while having plentiful and others give away their all without even knowing them. Such service towards the society is not so often seen nowadays, not even heard off. After her statement a low murmuring started among the people around. Presumably they were discussing the tragedy from all possible quarters of their imagination.
Contd...P/5
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