Time Voyager

WriteMaza

          

"Creativity is inventing,experimenting,growing, taking risks breaking rules, making mistakes and having fun." Mary Lou Cook

   A Time Voyager

            Vignesh opened his eyes with a great effort and made a feeble attempt to smile at his cherubic six-year old Tarini. She appeared overawed by the hospital environment and after a while pronounced gravely, "You look like mummy."

He felt he was sinking, did she know about her mother, Piya. Who would have told the tiny mite that her mother had gone forever?

"With your bandages you should be in some pharaoh's tomb," continued Tarini.

 Vignesh was relieved; it was the mummy, and not Piya she was talking about.

"Papa where is Ma, when will we go home?" Tarini was getting restless and impatient. Harish his old friend had been looking after Tarini and him after hearing about the car crash.

 "Papa I am going to stay here with you in the hospital. Some times when I get up at night I am sure I can see Ma watching me standing at the foot of the bed. But when I try to reach her she's gone. Why is she behaving like this? I don't like her. . ." 

        

Vignesh watched helplessly as Tarini began sobbing and weeping. She had been the sole survivor of the car crash, coming out miraculously with just some scratches.

            His mind began wandering he was a thirteen year old travelling from Delhi to Hyderabad with his mother. It was very uncomfortable and despite the air- conditioning, he could feel the blistering heat wave. Amma had appeared worried and tired not her usual happy self. Summer holidays were one time that she went back to her parents. Appa, was posted in the Defence ministry and as usual would join them briefly for a week. Travelling with them was Smriti. She was quiet and withdrawn, replying only in monosyllables when absolutely necessary. Nothing appeared to interest her. She barely touched the paranthas, Amma had made for the journey. It had made his mother a little more anxious and concerned (if it were possible to be more anxious than she was already). Well he fell on his food with a gusto, he was not going to let this girl Smriti spoil his mood. Long holidays beckoned enticingly. He had finished with exams and one didn't have to think of school for a good long time. Although one look at the thin pinched solemn face made him feel a trifle guilty.

Vignesh thanked god that he didn't have to face a future like Smriti's. Orphaned and with no family to call her own. She had just one maternal grandmother in Hyderabad, who was old and feeble and had not greatly welcomed the suggestion that Smriti be sent to her. Smriti was not too keen on going either but for how long could she have stayed on with them. She had mentioned a Mama who was not mentally sound. Vignesh's parents were also uncomfortable and worried about sending her there. After the initial crying bout, Smriti had withdrawn in to a silent world. Barely coming out of it to carry on living in this world. When they (Vignesh and his parents) had gone to pack-up and shift Smriti's parent's house a strange incident happened, which Vignesh couldn't comprehend and was wise or perhaps frightened sufficiently not to share with his parents. He was bored with all the men shifting and packing the luggage. Vignesh got out of the house and turned wards what looked like a shed. Peering from the window he saw that the room was filled with garden tools and wood. There were carpentry tools also stacked away neatly in a comer. He recollected that Smriti's father had been fond of whittling wood and making strange shapes out of them. Well if one stretched one's imagination you could possibly see an old woman bent with age or a man weary and tired with life. Often Vignesh had badgered him for a simple flute or a cricket bat, both of which had been ignored. As his eyes got used to the dimness he became aware of Smriti sitting still on the pile of wood clutching some wooden thing to her heart. There was an air of expectancy on her silhouette, which made him uneasy. He wanted to run away but something held him back. He saw a 'shape of a man, tall with a pointed goatee beard, stretch out and fold Smriti in his arms. He was surprised rather shocked to find Smriti smiling and flinging her arms around that man, or was it just a shape?

           

Vignesh must have slipped and tripped over in his attempt to get away. Next he remembered just shouting with pain and fear.

Appa came running, scolding, "You always manage to get into trouble. Never giving us a moment's respite. Now just sit in the lawn we are almost done."

 He was planted on the swing and he was surprised to find Smriti still clutching a wooden monstrosity, settling herself near him. On closer inspection of the wooden object Vignesh could make out a faint resemblance of a man, woman and child who were clinging together. Smriti looking up and caught his skeptical expression answered softly, "Ma, Papa and me." She appeared at peace and for once ate all that was served on the plate. After that day, Smriti was more 'normal' less of a sleepwalker and sometimes actually replied to his unending questions.

He would always find her with that wooden thing. Amma and Appa were too engrossed in the mundane paper work and nitty-gritty of details, which follows death, to even notice any thing unusual. They believed in 'Time the great healer' and breathed a little easy as they found Smriti taking interest in her school.

As the train chugged along on the journey, Vignesh noticed that Smriti was getting restless. She still held the wooden peculiarity, they called it 'abstract art', 'Expressionism' or modem art which any way he didn't understand. There was an impatient anticipation for events, which she only could foresee. They played Scrabbles for a while and slept off the long hot afternoon. At the close of the day when evening gave way to night, Smriti appeared calmer, some how more grown-up. She helped Amma unpack the tiffin-box, again barely tasting all the lip-smacking goodies spread out before

 her. She also tidied up the place, replacing all the boxes and clearing out the crumbs. Vignesh felt drowsy soon after and decided to go to his upper berth, and settle down for the night. Smriti appeared cheerful and her 'goodnight' had an air of adieu in it? When Vignesh awoke with a start the entire compartment was in darkness, only a dim night-light suffused the area. In a glance he took in his Amma sleeping soundly on the other lower berth and the young man sharing their cabin asleep on the other upper berth. But what held him mesmerized was the shape or a shadowy figure that was bending down on Smriti. His piercing yell awoke Amma and the other fellow passenger, but surprisingly Smriti carried on in a deep sleep. His story of a figure bending on Smriti had them checking the cabin door, which was still bolted. But it had worried his Amma and she stayed awake for the rest of the night. Only another day more by evening they would reach Hyderabad, then her worries would cease. Amma would hand over Smriti to her grandmother and her responsibilities would end.

The next morning saw a more despondent Smriti, she was back to her old withdrawn self. Amma put it down to the child's anxieties to a new environment. She appeared to know very little about her grandmother, except that she had a huge sprawling house in the outskirts of the city and lived with her son who was 'not all there'. After Smriti's mother's marriage, the distance between mother and daughter had grown. The mother had in a way envied her daughter's happiness and their brief meetings had always ended on a bitter note.

Vignesh was also caught up by the excitement and general movement as the train approached its destination. They were busy doing their last minute packing to notice Smriti at all. When Vignesh looked back to see whether Smriti was following him that he saw her smiling widely. Who or what could it be, that made her smile he wondered? Suddenly there was a whole crowd of passengers jostling and pushing to get out coming between him and Smriti, who was left behind. As he craned his neck to catch a glimpse of Smriti, his heart turned cold. The hair on the back of his neck stood up; there she was comfortably ensconced in the arms of that tall shadowy man with a goatee beard. Catching his eye both of them waved at him. He felt that maybe the man resembled Krishnan Uncle, Smriti's father! As soon as he could he reported the matter to Amma, she became hysterical. She was sure that the child had been kidnapped.

Slowly they made their way home after having searched for Smriti in vain. Amma with a heavy heart called up Smriti's grandmother's number again and again only to hear the ring go unanswered. The next day Amma and Vignesh made their way to Smriti's grandmother's house. It had an air of indescribable loneliness and sorrow. Nobody and nothing stirred, not even a leaf moved; as if even the trees were watching them in silence. 

The merciless afternoon sun, beat on their heads and after having 

gone around the house several times in despair, Amma sat down 

under the Neem tree. A gnarled old man appeared behind a couple 

of buffaloes; on questioning about the whereabouts of Smriti's 

grandmother, he looked at them quizzically.

 "Don't you know that Sunder her mentally unsound son had been found hanging from this very tree?"

At which both Vignesh and his mother jumped up and stood some distance away. The old man grinned ghoulishly revealing toothless gums. The next day his mother was also found dead by the servant."

Vignesh and his Amma exchanged glances, was this true or was this man also part of some bewitching tableau? So poor Smriti was left really and truly alone in the world. Could it have been true that it was her father who had come to fetch her back to another world? Last Vignesh remembered Smriti she was clutching that wooden family' in one hand and waving with the other...

As he looked up Vignesh found Piya smiling softly at him. Now that was odd had he,not been told of her demise? But wait his cherub Tarini was clinging on to her mother and they both had that familiar expectant look on their faces. Well, at last he had his family back with him, the agony of separation was over...

Glossary

Amma. .. mother Appa... father

Mama.. maternal uncle

Parantha.... shallow fried savoury