HOW BLUE IS MY SAPPHIRE

Today , all accounts of my past debts were going to be settled. The cursed tears of an unmarried mother seem on verge of being settled .The man who left me and my mother, to fend life alone was,lying here, before my eyes, crushed under the wheel of his own truck. The length of his body proved his handsome figure. For a few moments My throat choked. Those lovefull fatherly touching moments spent with him, melted away my grievances. I touched his hands and forehead. I could not believe the truth. He was warm. I widened my pupils to ascertain the coincidence . Was it really him?
Flawlessly fair and smooth skin was shining bright as it used to be. His sharp nose bone still stood up straight like a dwarfed himalayan peak. Those memories of my childhood days reminisced alike the widening ripples of water in a still pond into which destiny had suddenly thrown a pebble
I was here to rescue the accident victims. An overloaded grocery truck had collided with the wall of a concrete house and its bonnet stuck into its room.The khalasi ran away with cash and valuables leaving the driver run over by the truck wheel.
Perhaps he was thrown out with a jerk before he could control his drunken body It denoted the tragic story of how one’s deed carve destiny! He was left unattended on an isolated hilly highway alike the woman whom he had left uncared once ,sonewhere on a similar terrain with a false assurance of returning with his parents to marry her and give fatherhood to her three children . Cowardice and hypocrisy deterred him from accepting truth. Had I a chance to relate his biography ,I would have not lose chance of elaborating the truth.

Today,I was here , as an officer on duty.
My heart and mind did not sync together. Several thoughts flooded my conscious mind.Ethics and impulse competed with one another “ Who is there to check what I am doing? Who will question ,what I found on the spot? It is a one man committee. There was no one to investigate or examin whether my report was correct!”

For long I gazed at the man lying before my eyes. I was unable to decide what to do.
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I was born out of my mother’s womb but not as her legitimate child. My genetic father was a grain merchant, who owned a shop near the dam where my mother worked. After a few meetings with my mother , he became a close acquaintance . Taking advantage of her state,he took himself to be her well wisher . He became a keen looker after for my mother and her two daughters . He promised he would soon marry her .My mother lived in delirium of his dreams while he enjoyed the privileges of his artificial husbandry.
He was not the first man in her life.
Her first husband disappeared with the excuse of making an earning, in a nearby tea plantation city. He never returned. Later someone brought the news of his remarriage with a tea garden worker.He settled there and built a new house for her.
Hearing the news, my mother wailed at the feet of her village Sarpanch and her parents. None intervened. The sarpanch had a legal excuse. According to him it was out of his jurisdiction. Her parents were typically that old orthodox type who laid their hands off, saying they had done their duty by marrying her,.Once the daughter was married. It was her fate that would decide her life and not they!
My mother was as vulnerable as the ant who works day and night but has no right , no assurance for tomorrow’s bread, shelter or cover.The same fate was of her children’s too.
She turned her pleading eyes to all her good neighbours but their mute turn told her more than words could speak. It’s truly said that weak and poor have neither cousins nor parents!

“Go and do some work.you have to look after these children!” Her parents had told her before turning their backs. She kept crying at their door but it did not open again. How long could her tears pacify her stomach! That night she prepared herself for feeding herself and her two daughters.
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With no money and no employment it became impossible for her to look after two of my elder sisters who were still not able to take care of themselves. All relations from her parents broke . Somehow she got work on distant dam construction site .It did feed her but shelter and clothing were still insufficient for them. Sonehow she arranged a roof. It was an enclosed area under a black polythene sheet ,tied between two trees and a prickly shrub near the dam site! My step sisters would collect dried twigs and leaf to aid her in cooking of food in the evening while mother worked at the dam .
There was one ration shop from where she bought rice .She cooked sufficient amount to last for the hunger of her two kids , next day too. The shop owner was a handsome enterprising Punjabi and observed her plight. He too had no other person but a street pup who sat on the door of the shop like a sobre and undisturbing guard.My sister and mother were surprised at its quiet behaviour and alike his master. Gradually,they developed good acquaitance.

It did not take long for this man to access our dilapidated home which by then had attained the look of a thatched hut. He gave large concessions to mother on her purchases . And whenever he came home he would bring soap and shampoo sachets for her as well as some readymade savories for her two daughters. His sweet and cordial behaviour fell on my mother as the first rains of monsoon on parched farms.And my mother once again was pregnant! With her physical disability and my so called father’s sympathetic care for us, she stopped going to the dam site. I was born. My father was over excited to have me . He fulfilled every wish .

After my birth, my mother insisted that they should marry or go to some other city to settle. He would never deny of having fathered me but his attitude towards mother’s wish was not clear. However he took all responsibilities earnestly. But it was obvious that my mother’s wish would never be fulfilled.
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For us children, life was rather smooth. Good clothes,good food and shelter, all were assured. Mother no longer worked in the construction site. Father, mother and we three lived comfortably in the newly built three room house on the hill overlooking the winding highway road near the construction site.Often I would take the dog for walks in the forest.We were three girls at home but with my father’s support, I would be the master in his absence

I was fond of the dog and so was the dog. I would often take him for walks. His forceful pull would drag me so hard that I had to run after him, holding his leash.we were good friends. This closeness was not free but was in exchange of that half piece of extra meat that I would steal out of my share for him.

He would growl when my sisters entered the house but for me he would wag his tail and spend his night guarding at my bedside. Often my half sisters complained of it but my father ignored it. After all he was my genetic father!

Mother now shared the shop duties when father would go for bringing the ration. Once when he returned, his mood fluctuated from cool and affectionate to an impatirnt one. I marked,he often carried an envelope to his shop. With the use of all school education, I got the gist of the envelopes. My father was now in another relationship.

My sympathy turned towards my sisters.I was now a cirtic of father. I couldn’t forgive him. My feelings towards mother became soft. I forgave mother . I started appreciating her patience. Time was hardening on us.Resourses were decreasing.

“Where is your papa?” mother was anxious and tearful. I was still in sleep. “Why are you asking me,he was with you last night?”

“Yes ,till I was awake.! I don’t know when he left ,without telling me. He has taken all his belongings too!He will not return,perhaps!I have lost him, forever!

My mother wailed the whole day , without a break. There was no respite. Once again she had to fend herself and we three sisters for our needs. The shop was our only support. Without losing time,she took a lock and put it on the shop. She took over it’s running, efficiently and strongly guarded her status now.We all understood that any kind of weakness would prove costly. Means were insufficient yet house was running stably. We were attending school and mother was running the shop well.

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Earthquake hit the terrains of Nepal as well as neighboring areas of India. It was the year 2015. We had returned from school and just finished our lunch and homework. Mother was getting wood for evening fire from the side room ,next to kitchen ,opposite to courtyard . suddenly she threw the bundle of wood and ran to our room . “Some thing is wrong. Get up ,everything is moving
Its an earthquake perhaps!Get under the bed,all of you”.
By the time she completed her sentence the tiles and wooden slabs seem to losen and fall on the edge of my bed.all of us squeezed ourselves under the tables chairs.
The dog stuck to me . its body was trembling tremendously . We could hear the rumbling of rocks. It seemed like the roar of a lion .perhaps more vulgar and frightening!I held the leg of the table tight In no time the house crumbled over us but we were all living

We remained absolutely without food and water for nearly four days ,buried under the debris of our own wooden house. It was mother’s courage and her closet savings that supported us.
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“Sir the driver is still breathing! He can be saved if he is immediately put on medical support!”
‘“Definitely,We shall send a medical team for your help! Human life is more important than any commodity!”
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“Ma today I want to give you something!” I held mother’s hands in
mine.
“You are already taking care of the wholefamily.What else would I require” mother smiled at me.
“Today we have a very important friend to meet. And you have to come with me!”
………….
“Now don’t open your eyes till I tell you!”
“What drama are you doing in front of the hospital inmates. I am not going to close my eyes!”
“Please Ma! Only once for me,please!”
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“Now Open your eyes,Ma.”
“O my God! Where did you find him?” mother burst into tears, of joy.

The person on hospital bed arose with folded hands.

“ She has not found me rather given me a new birth! Forgive me for my wrong ,my daughter!

I too could not hold my tears. I had lived a long time suffering the pain of being a fatherless child. I cannot make the world understand how it is to live without a father. No grievance ,no apology can equal this pain! And no daughter would prefer punishing one’s father for whatever fault he may have done than giving him his due share.
Everyone has a past. It’s the past that makes the future . And few know to walk out of it. I was one of them.

Washing all desistable memories I walked out of my past image of an illegitimate child to one ,belonging to a father . I knew I could do it!