Why we in Tamil Nadu are still unable to eradicate begging in public places?

I was returning from Madurai by train, a couple of days ago. At Thiruthangal station, an adolescent boy, his hands crippled somewhat, came begging window after window, with very little success. When he knew that I was about to take out my wallet to offer him some money, he made a request to give him ten rupees so that he could eat something for the day.....................http://neel48.blogspot.in/2014/11/why-we-in-tamil-nadu-are-still-unable_8.html

Here you go with:"What If Our Dreams Come True! An Uncommon Meeting with Lord Siva" - Chapter 36

Chapter 36: Story of Ambalam

Ambalam was young and robust and was in the army. He loved Roja, the little village girl who just attained age. Whenever he came to his village for vacation, he started pestering her parents about his wanting to marry her. Roja was distantly related to him too. Though her parents had a soft corner for him, they vacillated because of his occupation in the army and the big age gap between them. Roja never revealed her mind. He had known her from the day she was born. Ambalam was already thirteen when she was born. He had physically helped her parents a lot during the delivery. When she was growing and maturing, he had played with her almost every day. His initial tender affection for Roja slowly turned into a kind of love for her. But when Roja attained age, her parents gradually prevented her making contact with him. Knowing her and her family so intimately, he never thought marrying Roja would be an issue. Roja neither said ‘yes’ nor ‘no’ for the marriage. Ambalam thought she was still a child and gave them more time to decide favorably. However Ambalam’s parents were restless about his marriage, as he was already nearing thirty.

“I am willing to wait for Roja.” He always answered. His parents too tried to persuade Roja’s parents, but they were evasive about the marriage. Ambalam always believed Roja was his girl.

But when the news reached him that Roja had eloped with another villager Ponnan, nearly of his age, Ambalam became furious and mad. He deserted his army job and ran to his village. He felt all his dreams were shattered.

‘What did Ponnan have that I didn’t have?’ This question rocked his mind. Roja’s parents too were in great distress and admitted their mistake in not agreeing to Ambalam marrying her. They knew where Roja was, though they themselves didn’t get in touch with her. Ambalam gathered her whereabouts.

In his frenzy, he went after Roja and when he met her, she was in an intimate and awkward union with Ponnan. Ambalam lost his mind, took out a small pistol that he had stolen from the army and shot at Ponnan. It was early morning then. Ambalam had no serious thoughts about what his action could bring to him. He was full of rage and he was mad at Roja. He kneeled, pleaded and shouted at her to come with him. Roja cried aloud. In the bedlam, neighbors had heard the sounds, came rushing, dashed Ponnan to the hospital and he was just saved in the nick of the moment. He survived, but not before his lower part of the body completely paralyzed.

Ambalam was arrested. Roja refused to give any clear witnessing statement to the police and court. She never raised her accusing finger at Ambalam during the entire proceedings.

And, she was pregnant too. When she delivered the baby, she lived no more, leaving the baby motherless. The little baby was taken away by Roja’s parents and was growing in their custody.

Ambalam spent his years in the jail like a lunatic. Ponnan was in the hospital for a few years before he died one day. When Ambalam was finally released from the jail early, due to his excellent conduct, he had already lost all his desires for anything in life. Somehow, he never thought of ending his life. He initially became a nomad and then a ‘sanyasin.’ He believed that something was in store for him and he was looking for that moment. He lived on the meager alms provided by those visiting the temple and never complained about anything in life. He spoke very little. I was the only one with whom he ever had any lengthy conversation in his ‘sanyasin’ life.

                                                                                  *****

As Ambalam slowly completed his story to me, he asked me, “Now that you know my story – and you are the only one to know - tell me, what can I do for you?”

I looked at him understandingly. I believed I was nobody to judge whatever happened in his life. He seemed to understand too. We remained silent for some time looking at each other. The next question came involuntarily from me.

“Why do people beg in our country?”

“Begging has a long history. There was always a divide between those who have and those who don’t. Earlier days generally, the kings used to take care of the most poor and arranged for providing them food. They established choultries for this. Then, there are those who had relinquished worldly pleasures and became ‘sanyasins’ (monks) and they always went for ‘biksha’. Going for ‘biksha’ gave these monks a sense of humility and gratitude. I have heard about Buddhist monks living on alms and the most notable among them was Gautama Buddha himself. But only somewhere in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, poverty rates went up abnormally and begging became widely visible world over especially in Europe. While I was in the army, I have heard about beggars in England and many other European countries. In Far East, more particularly in countries having strong roots of Buddhism, one could see householders going to temples every morning to give alms to monks.

But in our country the kind of begging that you most see and detest is of recent origin in the last two centuries. It is a curse. Many poor people genuinely need help. But many have taken begging as a profession, due to their laziness. It pays to be lazy now. The people in power too seem to encourage keeping people poor. They constantly feed the poor directly and indirectly and continue to keep them poor. Not much is done to improve their economic condition. Every successive government seems to be vying with each other trying to discover ways and means of giving away freebies to people thus making them beggars all the time.

In many advanced countries begging is banned and prohibited. But I have also heard about begging going on in America. In New York and other big cities, in railway stations, road junctions, I have heard of poor people playing musical instruments for tips.

Yes, begging is bad. But, I have lost all desires in life and I beg only to keep this physical body intact. That too, people come to me and I don’t go out begging.”

For the first time I saw another side of Ambalam. His clarity and knowledge was quite amazing.

“I want to put an end to begging.” I told him in simple terms.

“Quite a Himalayan task! People need to change. You know something. Go to Punjab. You won’t see any Punjabis begging. Punjabis –especially Sardarjis - as a clan are people with much self-respect and self-esteem. If you can spot even one Sardar beggar in our country I will give you a lakh of rupees.”

I agreed with him. “But, why is it that in our State, we see beggars in every nook and corner?”

“The simple fact is, there are very poor people. The government doesn’t help them and so they choose the next best. They exploit our religious and spiritual sentiments. We believe, we go to heaven when we feed poor. Then begging becomes an easy way of life. That is why you find beggars in large numbers in front of temples. They prick the conscience of the devotees at the temple.”

I recalled my meeting the person begging at the Cheranmahadevi temple and his reply to my question.

I had never realized that Ambalam could have such profound and in-depth understanding and wisdom.

Something flashed in my mind for a moment and I saw myself closing my eyes. I was lost in thought for a while. In my vision I saw Ambalam getting up from his sick bed and walking away freely, smiling and waving his hands to me. I was startled and opened my eyes. I became silent for a long time, looking straight into his eyes.

“What are you looking at?” Ambalam asked, even as he tried to wink his eyes as though he was unable to bear direct eye contact with me.

I didn’t answer and continued to silently hold his hands. In the next few moments, Ambalam closed his eyes and went to sleep without a further word. Radhika tiptoed behind me, signaled to me to come out.

When we were outside the small hut, I asked Radhika, “Would you have a problem if I stay here for a few days and help Ambalam? Will I be a burden?”

“This is your place, Ayya. Please stay. It would be of great help. I had been managing Ambalam without any male support for quite long. Please stay.”

In the next three months, Ambalam’s health changed dramatically and miraculously.

And one day, he walked freely without any support. Lord Siva made that possible. After all, the lord too needed support from humans to fulfill his mission.

                                                                                    *****

Why we in Tamil Nadu are still unable to eradicate begging in public places?

I was returning from Madurai by train, a couple of days ago. At Thiruthangal station, an adolescent boy, his hands crippled somewhat, came begging window after window, with very little success. When he knew that I was about to take out my wallet to offer him some money, he made a request to give him ten rupees so that he could eat something for the day.....................

Here you go with:"What If Our Dreams Come True! An Uncommon Meeting with Lord Siva" - Chapter 35

Chapter 35

As I stepped out of the District Collector’s office, I remembered Ambalam, the mendicant at Papanasam who shared with me the gory stories about the flash floods in the river Tamirabarani. My accidental meeting him eventually led to my long stay at Papanasam for seven years and we ended up, eventually, building water dams, to prevent flash floods in those hilly Podhigai regions. 

As I walked along the raised banks of the river Tamirabarani at Kokkirakulam where the District Collector’s office was housed in Tirunelveli, I passed by the offices and courts of the District and sessions judges. A cool wind was blowing crisscrossing the river, carrying with it a pleasant aroma from the court canteens that prepared very delicious halwa and vadai. From the elevations, I looked at the serene river below, flowing down quietly. I had heard that the river Tamirabarani never dried up in its history. At the far end behind me, I could see the silhouette of the railway bridge and a train passing over. Thanks to the British, India today had railways, bridges and canals. On the other bank of the river, several pigs were scavenging for food, even while dhobis were busy washing clothes beating them on small rocks. Buffaloes and bullocks were getting a cool bath in the river alongside the people. I walked along the more-than-half-a-century-old Sulochana Mudaliar bridge across Tamirabarani. I remembered someone telling me that several decades back, the philanthropist Sulochana Mudaliar built this bridge, entirely out of his personal wealth, to help villagers cross the river. The bridge was made of stones, brick and mortar and had stood firm over the years. Later, when  the government wanted to lay a new wider bridge across the river, they couldn’t break any of the then existing structures. So they had to change their plan and the design and be satisfied with just widening the already existing bridge, by erecting additional pillars to support them. I reached the central bus stand at Tirunelveli Junction and took a bus to Papanasam where I went straight to my Lord’s temple.

Outside the temple, I searched for Ambalam, but he wasn’t there. I enquired anxiously, with the other fellow mendicants sitting outside the temple. They didn’t seem to know.

I saw Mallika, the flower vendor, beckoning me from the far end. “How are you, thambi? It is a long time since we saw you here. Who are you looking for?” I had remembered this girl and she was much younger when I stayed in Papanasam. She had lost much of her earlier youthful exuberance now. She looked tired. I was concerned.

“What Mallika Akka? What happened to you? You look very tired?  Are you not well?”

“What do I tell you? It is all due to the demon I married a couple of years ago. It is a long story. Forget it. Tell me who are you looking for?”

I asked her about Ambalam. “Do you remember?”

“How do I not remember him? He was one real saint here, among all these fake sadhus. He read my palm and cautioned me about my marriage. I don’t know what powers he had. He seemed to know what was coming to me. But I did not heed to his advice. Now I suffer. Why? What about him?”

“I want to meet him. Where is he now?”

“Oh, you are looking for Ambalam annan! He is in a miserable condition. He had a paralytic stroke and now in bed. The hospital gave up on him mercilessly. I took him to my sister’s place where he is now being taken care of. Very pitiable! My demon at home doesn’t allow me to keep Ambalam with me. I go once in a while to see him. ‘Ayya’, you must see Ambalam. He still remembers you a lot. He would be very happy to see you. He is getting old and I don’t know how long he will survive.”

I didn’t wait for a moment and dashed to her sister’s place.

Ambalam had become a skeleton now. He was lying down on a jute cot, his eyes half closed. When I went near him, he opened his eyes as though he was expecting me. He greeted me with a half-smile. He tried to raise his hand and body, but he was very weak and couldn’t.

“What happened to you, Ambalam? Why didn’t you send word to me?”

His reply was indistinct and it took some time for me to decode. “You were busy with much more important jobs, I knew. You were born for that. Why should I want to disturb your great mission? I would have been an additional burden to you…….Forget it. Tell me, ‘How are you?’ I heard stories about you from Brahmadesam. Tell me what happened there. Was what I heard true? Tell me. Please tell me in your own words.” He breathed heavily and struggled.

Not wanting to disappoint him, I told him what happened at Brahmadesam, avoiding any elaborate description. I also sincerely apologized to him for not having remembered him earlier.

“Never mind! I am happy to see you now again today.” He gasped for breath. I found a jar of water nearby and gave him some water in a tumbler. Radhika, Mallika’s sister watched everything from a distance and brought me some black tea.

“Now that I see you again, I am sure I am going to recover from this stroke. Lord Siva has sent you here for a purpose. Tell me, what can I do for you?”

Somehow, niceties had lost meaning for me and I put the question straight to him. “Would you mind telling me about your past?” I had so far never asked him about his past.

And then he told his story.

*****

Why we in Tamil Nadu are still unable to eradicate begging in public places?

I was returning from Madurai by train, a couple of days ago. At Thiruthangal station, an adolescent boy, his hands crippled somewhat, came begging window after window, with very little success. When he knew that I was about to take out my wallet to offer him some money, he made a request to give him ten rupees so that he could eat something for the day. I was upset by his demand and offered him the customary two-rupee coin from my wallet. Just then, the train started leaving the station and his demand for a ten rupee note kept pounding me for quite some time. My initial irritation about his demand vanished and I regretted not giving him what he wanted. He must have been helpless in making an outrageous demand while begging. What worse thing one can do in life than begging, giving up one’s self-dignity and respect?

Either the same day or sometime around the same day, I read the news in the papers that the government of Tamil Nadu was proposing to start selling many grocery items at half the price under the AMMA scheme. After all, how many selling outlets the government can open? Can they meet the demand of the entire State and its poor? What has the government done to help the real poor who beg on the streets? Tamil Nadu is a unique State where one finds begging still going on strong in many public places even while there is a tall claim of all round progress.

The sight of begging in public places by pathetic people had touched and altered my own conscience over the time. A decade or so back, I was repelled by such sights, but not anymore. Now I offer whatever change I keep in my pocket to whosoever begs me. I don’t know whether it is right to encourage beggars or not, but this is the best I am able to do.

Seeing begging in public places had pricked me time and again that I chose eradicating begging as an important theme for one of the episodes in my novel: WHAT IF OUR DREAMS COME TRUE! AN UNCOMMON MEETING WITH LORD SIVA. This novel was self-published on Amazon.com last year. I thought I would reproduce some excerpts from this Episode in my blog during the next couple of weeks for the avid readers’ benefit.

Here, you go….

Before that, to tell readers briefly, what this novel is about….. Poorna Chandran, or, in short Poornan, gets cured of his acute stomach pain after he had a dream in which Lord Siva appears and ordains his meeting HIM in seven of HIS places. Not wanting to antagonize Lord Siva, he starts with Courtallam, a river town, where he meets with an incredible mystical experience and from there he goes to six more places along the banks of the river Tamirabarani, the perennial river of southern Tamil Nadu. In each of these places, he meets with some unique challenges. How he meets these challenges is the crux of the novel. There are thus seven episodes in the novel.

Here, you really go….. 

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EPISODE 4

My days with Sri Ammanathar at Cheranmahadevi

Chapter 34

“Don’t you feel bad about begging?”I asked bluntly, looking at the middle aged man sitting outside the Siva temple at Cheranmahadevi. He looked well built, tall and healthy. He wore a small piece of saffron cloth below his waist, exposing his large belly. His whole body was painted with ‘vibhuthi’ and had turned white. His forehead bore a large sized round mark of ‘kumkum’. He had wound around his neck a thick ‘rudraksha mala’ that didn’t appear original. He had fully tonsured his head and shaved his face. 

“No, Ayya. Rather, I feel good!” He too replied swiftly. (‘Ayya’ is a Tamil word to denote ‘sir’)

“But why? Is anything wrong with you? You seem to be physically alright.” I didn’t want to give up on him.

“Why not, Ayya? Life is easy this way. When I was willing to work, they cheated me and browbeat me. Now my life is very comfortable. I make here more than what I need for a day. Besides, you know, I help a lot of people earn punya (good deeds) and attain moksha (salvation) by receiving alms from them. But for people like me, many would be dangling above the boiling oil in the hell.” He laughed aloud and continued, “Which one do you want Ayya?  Heaven or hell? Please offer me something.” His tone was full of sarcasm.

I scrounged my inner shirt pocket, found a one rupee coin and offered it to him. That was the only treasure I had with me at that time.

“But would you come with me if you were offered a place to stay, food to eat, and good clothes to wear?” I was a nomad myself, with no place of my own and with no belongings other than a small shoulder bag. I must be crazy to make an offer to him.

“No! No! You seem to be no different from a few other haughty people who had given me a similar offer before. You ask me to do a lot of menial work and pay me peanuts. Why would I need to be working if I can make a living doing nothing?” He turned his head away from me and looked at a young couple coming out of the temple, “Ayya, Amma please offer me something. Be it punya to you both. May it bring luck to you, O Amma!”

It was obvious that he was not keen to pursue the conversation with me anymore.

I was stubborn, still didn’t want to give up on him and told him sternly, ‘Look, you are going to come with me one day!’ I didn’t wait for his response and left the place.

It was a Pradhosham day. People considered it an auspicious day, to visit Siva temples for the special poojas done to Lord Siva. On these days, a large number of saffron clad people waited outside the temple, near the entrance, carrying a small wooden bowl, expecting people to offer them alms. The temple was crowded and many put coins into their begging bowls. After all, everyone wanted to earn punya and no one desired to go to hell. I noticed that many among those who begged were quite able, but a few were old, disabled, sick or some even lepers. There were many small children too, among them, pestering visitors to the temple for alms. It was very pathetic to see even young children begging. ‘Can I do anything at all to help these children stop begging? I ruminated as I left. An idea was forming in my mind.

*****

“Ayya is calling you inside”, the dawali (the peon) outside the District Collector’s office, beckoned me.

I entered the large spacious office of Govind Singh, the District Collector at Tirunelveli. He was short in stature and looked miniscule, behind his oversized rosewood table.

“Please come! What new issues have you brought to me? I am sure you have something interesting.” He welcomed me with a broad smile.

Govind Singh, an Indian Administrative Service (IAS) Officer, belonged to Kapurthala in Punjab and was quite young for his official position. When he passed his IAS exams, he was pleasantly surprised to learn that he was allotted to Madras Cadre, by the Central Government. He had spent his school days in Madras when his father ran a small shop for automobile spare parts. His father died in a scooter accident and the family was forced to move back to Kapurthala. When he joined the government services in Madras, he still remembered bits of Tamil he had learnt during his early school days and that helped him a lot in his job. Linguistic chauvinism was the order of the day and the government expected all officers to use Tamil in all their official communication. Govind Singh’s Tamil was funny, but he managed. He was very simple, bold, tough and upright - called a spade a spade. But behind his tough postures, he had a kind heart that only few understood.

Govind Singh had joined the district administration only a couple of months ago, but he had heard about me and we became friends from our very first acquaintance. Thanks to Lord Siva and his projects, a nomad and the District Collector became friends.

Govind waited for a response from me and I was never good at being circumspect. “Can you please identify and allot some vacant land in Cheranmahadevi, for a good cause?”

He smiled wickedly. He knew my next project had already begun. Still, he asked, “What for?”

I explained. In less than seven minutes I was out of his room, feeling confident, looking forward to challenging years ahead. Lord Siva always had people working for Him.

*****

LONELY - My new novel just published - Chapter 5

I have already published three of my books through Amazon.com:

1. Short stories for young readers - Book 1

2. Short stories for success for young readers - A new lexicon unfolded

3. What If Our Dreams Come True! - An uncommon meeting with Lord Siva

"LONELY," my new novel is just self-published in www.pothi.com. I have ordered my first copy from www.pothi.com and awaiting delivery.

I intend blogging the first few sample chapters of the novel for everyone to read. Every alternate day, a new chapter will be released through my blog. Avid readers may please read and send me their comments.

I would appreciate if readers can indicate their preference about using their comments as part of the book

Readers who are interested in reading the entire novel may look for it, at www.pothi.com. The entire sale proceeds from all my books go to support the charitable and social activities of our L.N.Charitable Trust. The Trust focuses its efforts on Training and Development of Youth. For more details, you may look at www.tnneelakantan.com

Here you go with the chapter 5.......

.................................................................................................................................................................

Chapter

5

A fortnight passed by. Gopi visited the Mani Shankar’s place more often, taking time off from the restaurant. He didn’t seem to mind anymore. Apparently, his interest in Sharmilee was growing. Sharmilee too responded, acknowledging his presence every time. She laughed too, when Gopi cracked some jokes, whatever she understood from them.

“I must take her to a good doctor.” 

“You must go to Haridwar or Roorke,” Gopi suggested. “I can help you with a few contacts. They may help you,” he volunteered further.

Everything changed one day. Sharmilee had vomited in the morning and fainted. Savithri Devi, the old lady in the lodge had now become very understanding and rushed in to help. Her initial apprehensions had now disappeared. She held Sharmilee’s hand and felt her pulse. She arched her brows, with concern. She suspected what it could be.

She pulled Mani Shankar aside and whispered to him, “You must take her to a lady doctor. I suspect something more serious.” She didn’t elaborate. Sharmilee was resting in her room.

“Do you know anyone?”

She didn’t.

Mani Shankar telephoned to Gopi.

“Give me some time. I shall find one and bring her over there.”

In the next about an hour, he came in a taxi, accompanied by a lady who looked like a doctor. The lady examined Sharmilee, who had regained her consciousness and was feeling better.

‘She is a midwife,’ Gopi commented on the sidelines.

When the lady came out, she confirmed, “Yes, the girl is pregnant. May be a couple of months into it! She doesn’t seem to know anything. How do you connect with her?”

Mani Shankar briefly told her about Sharmilee. “She was on the streets. Some army men seemed to have done this mischief. What should we do now? Sharmilee is not in a mental state to determine many things on her own. She is still a child, mentally. Only her body had grown up.”

Mani Shankar was now really worried, while Gopi was rudely shocked.

“There is a primary health care center here, but no regular doctors. Try there, if you are lucky. Otherwise, you may have to go to Haridwar only,” the lady declared. “I am a midwife and I can take care of the child delivery, when it comes to that. I have helped several women here for their child delivery.”

Mani Shankar thanked the lady and Gopi took her back to her place. Before leaving, she suggested a few homemade remedies for Sharmilee. Savithri Devi appeared to be familiar with what was required to be done.

Mani Shankar had to seriously think and make decisions. He missed Gowri and her sane counseling.

‘Am I getting into more trouble?’

“You must go the police,” Savithri Devi said. She was already apprehensive of trouble for her, obviously.

“It is worse than not doing anything at all,” shot back Mani Shankar. “Leave it to me, please. I shall take the entire responsibility for Sharmilee.”

*****

ARCADIA 2014 CONTESTS

L.N.Charitable Trust, Melagaram, Tenkasi had adopted the acronym “SAKTHIY” as our mascot. “SAKTHIY” Stands for Advancement of Knowledge, Talent, Harmony and Integrity among Youth.

As part of our efforts towards Youth Development, the Trust conducted ARCADIA 2014 contests on Saturday, the 18^th October, 2014. The contests were held among the children studying in Class 6 to 8 in Government and Government Aided schools within Tenkasi Education District. Despite heavy rains the previous day, 389 children from 16 schools participated in the 10 different contests held in the premises of Bharat Montessori Matriculation Higher Secondary School, Ilanji. The winner of every contest was awarded a cash of Rs.1000 as first prize, Rs.500 as second prize and Rs.200 as third prize, besides cups, medals and certificates. The event was coordinated by the Tenkasi-Shencottai Public Library Vasagar Vattam. Bharat Montessory Higher Secondary School and its teachers and volunteers conducted the contests on behalf of the Trust. Sri Mohana Krishnan, Correspondent of BHARAT gave away the prizes to the winners. Selvi Karthika and Selvi Punitha gave a dance performance during the prize distribution ceremony.

L.N.Charitable Trust thanks the Bharat management and its team, the Tenkasi-Shencottai Public Library Vasagar Vattam and its office bearers for the successful conduct of the contests.

L.N.Charitable Trust lauds all the participating schools and their children and wish them a bright future.

LONELY - My New Novel - Chapter 4

I have already published three of my books through Amazon.com:

1. Short stories for young readers - Book 1

2. Short stories for success for young readers - A new lexicon unfolded

3. What If Our Dreams Come True! - An uncommon meeting with Lord Siva

"LONELY," my new novel is just self-published in www.pothi.com.

I intend blogging the first few sample chapters of the novel for everyone to read. Every alternate day, a new chapter will be released through my blog. Avid readers may please read and send me their comments.

I would appreciate if readers can indicate their preference about using their comments as part of the book

Here you go with the chapter 4.......

....................................................................................................................................................................

Chapter

4

Thanks to the mobile cellular technology. The Mani Shankar’s cell phone was handy. Gone were the days when one had to wait for long hours to connect a call, out of the town. Mani Shankar talked to Gowri in U.S.A, the next morning and told her everything, without omitting any detail – including the one relating to Sharmilee sleeping on his bed. Gowri was a person of details, as usual, and naturally, she had a number of questions. And, she was very magnanimous and understanding, as usual.

“I know you very well, Mani. Unfortunately, the world is not as magnanimous or large hearted as you are. You can run into problems. So, be careful. Take care. Best thing, take the girl to some Home for the Destitute, and leave her there. We can take care of her expenses there, if warranted. Anyhow, keep me informed,” Gowri said.

Mani Shankar met Gopi in the restaurant. “Can we talk?”

“What about?”

“About Sharmilee, the destitute girl….. You know her…. You have been offering food to her.”

“Yes, what about her?”

“How much do you know about her?”

“Very little. I sympathize with the girl. Whenever she passes by, she looks pathetic. She is very innocent. She is not communicative. Yes, I had offered food from our previous day’s kitchen. My owner is quite strict about the revenues to the hotel. I can’t be seen giving away even the previous day’s food freely. I am accountable to him……. The girl looks repulsive, I am sorry to say, with her dirty clothes and unkempt hair. But, I hadn’t seen her since the day before yesterday. I didn’t get time to check on her, too.”

“Why are you interested in her?”Mani Shankar was direct. He noticed that Gopi showed keen interest in his conversation about Sharmilee. Gopi turned his head away as though he didn’t want to face the truth.

“She is in my custody now,” Mani Shankar continued.

He looked perplexed. “Why? Is there any problem?”

“No, she is fine. You must see her now.”

There was curiosity in his look. “Where is she now?”

“Are you free anytime today?”

“I can go with you this evening.”

Mani Shankar was quite puzzled by Gopi’s interest in Sarmileel.

‘Could he be the one?’

He didn’t appear so.

They met in the evening. Mani Shankar took him to the lodge by walk and they talked on the way. They found enough time to share their loneliness and their stories.

Gopi’s father Pandarinath lived in the far off Roorki, beyond Hardwar. He was a mithaiwala and had plans to start a restaurant in Joshimatt, the base camp for the pilgrims to Badrinath, an abode of Lord Narayana. There was no decent vegetarian restaurant in Joshimatt and the potential for a hotel business was tremendous. But Pandarinath had no manpower support to manage a business in two different places. He had a rich father in law, but no issues at home. Pandarinath was growing older and his wife was desperate to have a child. During one of his visits to Joshimatt in connection with starting a restaurant over there, Pandarinath chanced upon a young widow with a young boy, around seven or eight years old. The boy, Gopi, was cute and lovable. Somehow, Pandarinath fell for Sugandhi, the widow and developed a relationship with her. His visits to Joshimatt increased and he spent time with Sugandhi and Gopi. He developed a liking for Gopi who didn’t fully understand Pandarinath’s relationship with his mother. Soon, Gopi took Pandarinath as his father. Pandarinath started his restaurant at Joshimatt and Gopi, at a very young age, became the de facto owner and employee of the restaurant. Unfortunately for Gopi, his mother fell ill with some sudden serious illness. Pandarinath could have easily taken her to Hardwar or Roorke for a good medical treatment, but he was afraid of getting exposed in front of his wife and the rich father-in-law, whose patronage he couldn’t afford to lose. Local medical attention didn’t help Sugandhi and she died. After his mother’s death, the relationship between Gopi and Pandarinath went through some metamorphosis. Pandarinath’s visits to Joshimatt reduced, though Gopi continued to be the trusted employee and a remote son. Gopi couldn’t complain. He had a decent life with some freedom and responsibility to engage himself in. He liked the restaurant business and his association with it 24x7. He never went to any school for his studies. Occasionally, he too felt very lonely, but was helpless about it. He was already wedded to his work. His restaurant and his guests there were his greatest companions.

“I am so sorry, listening to your story.” Mani Shankar empathized with Gopi. He could realize how lonely Gopi should be feeling right now.

‘I am not the only person on this earth, to feel lonely‘…………………………………..

“Did you say anything……?” The Gopi’s question brought back Mani Shankar to their conversation.

“I wanted to say that I was not alone on this earth to feel lonely. In my case, I am the one who had sought loneliness and still feeling bad about it.” Mani Shankar then told Gopi briefly about himself.

Sharmilee had spent most of her time that day, sleeping in the comfort of her warm room, under the blankets. When they reached the lodge she had just got up and was sipping some tea.

“Oh, she looks terrific.” The Gopi’s comment came loudly.

Sharmilee recognized Gopi instantly, with a broad smile. She extended the cup with tea to Gopi. Mani Shankar looked for any unusual expression or body language from Gopi. There was none, except a natural curiosity from a young adult about a charming girl. That was interesting.

“How, uncle? What a transformation? How could you do it?” Gopi had suddenly felt closer to Mani Shankar and started addressing him ‘uncle’.

Mani Shankar explained. “She is going to be in my custody for some time. I need to find a proper place to put her in – maybe some orphanage. She also needs to be treated for her mental illness. She is not a normal girl. I have to find some long term custody for her.”

“Tell me, uncle, what I can do to help you? I really pity this girl. Now, with her changed appearance,……… I don’t know what to stay.”

But Mani Shankar understood what he would have liked to say. The boy seemed to love her.

‘Is she in a position to reciprocate?’

They engaged in some small talk and went for a walk, down the valley, along a narrow path.

“There is a small temple down this valley, an exquisite place, surrounded by a very beautiful garden, full of wild flowers. I can take you there, if you would like. But not now, maybe, in the morning.” Gopi explained.

Mani Shankar, Gopi and Sharmilee appeared to be developing some intimate bond between them. Sharmilee, for the most part, was either silent or responded with just one or two words, but she seemed to be enjoying the company.

“Uncle, for the first time in the last several years, I feel having some company, today,” Gopi mentioned, towards the end of their meeting that day. They ate some simple dhal and roti prepared by Savithri Devi, the old lady, looking after the lodge.

 “What a delicious food I am eating,” Gopi commented. Coming from the hotelwalah, his appreciation of the food was understandable.

After all the small and serious talk, Mani Shankar gained no further knowledge about Sharmilee. He wasn’t yet prepared to discuss everything about Sharmilee in detail, with Gopi. 

Mani Shankar religiously relayed what happened that day, to Gowri, who grew more apprehensive, though she didn’t express it much. This ritual continued in the days to come too.

*****