Crossroads of Destiny

Navdeep looked at the calendar which showed his favourite date, 11th November, 2028.

He eagerly got out of his bed to see his parents holding a book out to him.

Navdeep opened the book, which was near tatters, very carefully, and looked at his Papa.

“Go on Beta, this was your father’s before you came to this world.”

Manisha entered the bed and stroked Navdeep’s hair and said,

Now Navdeep, you must make Mama promise dear.”

“Yes Mama? Whets it?”

“Promise me that you will never open a word about this to anyone. ANYONE. Understand Navdeep?”

“You can count in on me Ma.”

“Go on Navdeep then.” said Roshan

Navdeep blew air into the pages of the diary and opened the first page of the year 2008.

““Tickets please”

“No sir… We don’t have one.”

“All right boys, Jokes apart. Show me the tickets, all right?”

“We said we didn’t have one. Do you need an ENT?”

“Then get the hell out of the train before I get angry.”

“Wham!”

Rajeev’s fist slammed on the freckled cheek of the Ticket Collector of the Delhi Chennai Express, through which Rajeev and I, were travelling from Chennai to Delhi.

“Hm… good shot bro!” I replied, showing my front set of teeth, to Rajeev.

“Yeah. Let’s check whether this ‘Gopalakrishnan’(Rajeev looked at the nameplate of the TT) has any more ticket collecting to do.”, replied Rajeev.

Grinning widely, I took out the pad from the Ticket Collector’s outstretched arms and flipped the sheets of pages across, to find most of them checked. We tore the remaining of the unchecked pages into two halves, and put it into our pockets.

Rajeev then stripped the upper half of the TT and donned his black coat to give shelter to the yellow shirt that would give away his disguise as a TT.

I took out the spare coat of ‘Gopalakrishnan’ from his cabin on the train, and put it on, which made me a good five years older than what I was now.

We went across the train in two different directions, collecting the rest of the tickets and fining those who were without them, just like us. After we had fined about a dozen people or so like that, we had a good thousand bucks in our pockets. Checking the remaining passengers, we thrust the papers back into the pad, and the pad, into the TT’s arms.
“But Roshan, how do you think we are going to spend the two day journey in this trash-can-on-wheels, when this devil of a TT is waiting to suck money from my pocket?” asked Rajeev.

“Never mind da. The poor bloke will be too scared for words when he finds someone with the gut to beat the hell out of a government servant. It’s just better if we don’t spoil his duty anymore by filling his sight all right?”
I remember it well. It was the second day of my travel. The train was nearing Vijayawada. Rajeev was busy writing his diary, when my lungs were feasting on the fresh cool air, that the train presented them on account of the ripples it created in the still air, surrounded by bushes and trees.

My mind was probing on the life of the people inhabiting the lone cottages, sandwiched by trees on both sides, with only the engulfing darkness to give them company at night, and the merciless Sun for company at the day. The wind stimulated my mind to drift to the cause of our ticketless journey.

I and Rajeev were the two sons and the heirs of an industrialist, Tarun Ghoshal, who was a migrant from Gujrat. Ghoshal Sonics, India’s top company manufactured a wide range of appliances relating to Sonics. MP3s, Speakers, Headphones, Microphones, Cassettes, Woofers, Car stereos, you name it and the company made it. Rajeev, my elder brother was on the verge of making it to the revolving seat in the MD’s position, when the company’s legal papers were stolen by Omkar Puri, a childhood rival to my father.

My father and Puri had met in a beach at the peak of the night, when a quarrel broke out, resulting in Puri stealing my father’s life. Rajeev smelling a bad rat, went to the beach, following our father, taking a gun when he saw dad crumpled on the beach sand with Puri on top of him, his hand drenched with our family’s blood. Rajeev’s short temper took him to a new level as he snatched a crowbar lying near-by and mauled Puri with it,

It didn’t take the police long to trace the evidence to Rajeev and he was jailed the next week. We ended up in the train, when Rajeev broke free from the shackles of the police, escaping to the station, where he had called me to join him. Eshwar Puri, the son of Omkar who had masterminded the murder of my father, was taken to the Supreme Court for a formal investigation, though no suspicion was burdened on him. Immediately, a Red Alert was sounded to capture my brother for whom, the police were fishing, with nets thrown all over Tamil Nadu.

I was plodding over all this, when a jolt at my navel took me by force. I blacked out.

Two days later, I was lying on a bed, with a lady near the bed, pouring syrup into it. Looking into her eyes, I saw the pinnacle of evolution.

The eyes resembled the white pearls, fresh from an oyster, with pitch black spots centering them.

The nose was an evenly positioned miniature slide, not too big, not too small, and opening into two slim slits for taking in the wonderful village air through it.

The paper-like ears contained spirals of cartilage, ending at her slender ear-drum through which sounds of the world peeped in.

The cheeks were not chubby, accentuating her other features, which were sandwiching her rosy lips.

The lips were softly textured, and evenly fleshy. Not too thick, not too thin, but just the right size needed to attract a man and pull him out of his reverie.

Before I could think of adjectives to describe her beauty, she looked at me and that froze the air in and around me.
“Where am I?” I asked her in Telugu.

“At Mangalagiri.”

“Mangala…What?”

“Mangalagiri sir”, said the lady, smiling wide, showing her pearly white teeth at the entrance of the opening of her lips.
“Whoa man. Think about a partner, lucky would be the man who weds this damsel.” I said aloud in English, knowing that she would understand.

Her reply shaped my mouth into a wide ‘O’.

She replied in the same sweet voice with the change in language made to suit me.

“Yeah I suppose so Rohit, lucky would be the girl who weds you too.” said she in fluently paced English.

“Rohit?” I asked her, startled by the change in name with which I was addressed.

“Yes Rohit.”

“Well….I am sorry….well whets your name?”

“Ma….ni….sha”, said she, uttering every single syllable with such amazing sweetness.

“I am really sorry Manisha. My mind forced its way to my mouth and said things before I could stop it. Very sorry.”

“Its okay Rohit, I totally am out of place in this orthodoxical village, so you can be free with me all right?”

“And by the way, how was I here, and where is my brother?”

“Your brother Rahul is in the fields, fetching water to take a bath. Do you want me to call him???”

“Yeah please Manisha. Do call him na?”

Rajeev came in. Judging by his face, I could tell that he was relieved to see me conscious and sitting upright again.

“Hey Rajee…” I began.

“Shut up Roshan and listen to what I’m telling you now.”

Taken aback by the curt reply from my brother, I signaled him to talk.

“Listen Roshan, the train had derailed due to the a driving mistake, destroying the last coach in which Eshwar was held captive. You were badly injured on your right shoulder, a fracture in fact. The police have declared in the news that both of us were killed and our bodies have been destroyed too, in the accident, so we are practically safe right now. I carried you on my shoulders to this village here. This Mangalagiri near Vijayawada…Man, this is such a fresh place, from what I knew these last two days. I have changed our names to avoid any kind of recognition. The people in this village don’t give a damn about the outer life and are very much confined into their own village, except the two sisters, Manisha and Monisha.”

I tried to get up to give Rajeev a tight hug, when my shoulder painfully reminded me of my fracture.

“Ouch! It hurts da!”

“Yeah… The village doc prescribed tons of fresh air along with a week’s bedrest to put you back on track. All right? And one more thing Roshan.”

“Yeah?”

“There is this stunningly beautiful girl, Monisha da. Whoa. I’m still searching for words to describe her. Did you see her?”

I smiled to myself on thinking about Manisha, Monisha’s sister(From what Rajeev said). I said,

“Never mind da, I checked out an even beautiful mini-Monisha. You go on with her man!”

Both grinned.

“So whats our next move?” I asked.

“This place seems to be filled with fun loving and hardworking chaps and extremely hospitable ladies. I don’t intend to leave this place for the next month or so. Let’s catch up with the action in Delhi from this village.”

It took another couple of personal meetings with Manisha, for Roshan to stay in her heart. Manisha, being a rarity in the village, didn’t express it to him. I also could milk the history of the village, its local practices, its villagers, and slowly about Manisha itself, but a little too much for my liking.

It was one of those days of complete bliss, with Manisha near me to give company, and me poking her mouth to know more about her life. It was then that love for her came gushing out of my mouth that it acted out of its own accord.

“I Love you Manisha”

Her first reaction was to turn around and check whether her father, the village headman, was anywhere nearby. When she turned around, I shrank back on beholding the change in her eyes. What were once paper white, were now peach red, with tears leaking out of them, giving away the sweet fact that my love towards her was no longer one sided. Even on knowing it, I wanted to get it out of her mouth. So I added,

“Hey Manisha… I am very sorry, if I might have hurt you in anyway, and for being so stupid to not understand that you might be committed to someone else.”

“No…No…No…Rohit…That’s not the problem with me. Its something else.” Quipped in she, at once.

“And whats that?”

“I love you Rohit”

My face would have brightened by a wide difference, and I started popping up and down, waiting to get hold of Manisha.
I took her slender cheeks in my hand, and came closer to her and whispered, “Being in love with me seems problematic to you Manisha?”

“Yes”

“And why is that?”

“I can’t love you… I shouldn’t”

“Eh?”

“Yes. I’m not fit to be Mrs.Rohan, dear”

“I can’t get what you are saying Manisha”

“I’m not a virgin Rohan”

The light in the room would have dimmed. My eyes would have suddenly turned to lead and started forcing exhaustion on me. Manisha’s face slowly went out of focus, as I started reeling, and moved backwards. My head met the pillow and all went black.

The cold drops of water and the clanging of the bangles from Manisha’s hand, as she sprinkled water on me, woke me up with a start. Suddenly the intensity of the news came crashing on me and stabbed me once, twice and thrice, and how much ever times, I didn’t know. But the news was there before me, for me to take it or throw it away.

“Tell me more about it.” I said with my face as grave as a stone.

“No Rohit, I don’t think I’m fit for you any longer and you can have a better…..” she started, but I cut in.

“IF you truly dearly love me, then come out with what happened in your life, and why you are not with your first partner anymore.”

“It was two years since it happened. I was home after a very long spell of studies in Massecheutus University doing Mechanics. I had applied for a job in an MNC and during the wait for the job, I came to Mangalagiri for taking some months off when I met Eshwar.”

When I heard that, I felt as though someone had kicked me by the but and threw me to the ground. Only for the sole purpose of making Manisha to complete the story, I listened.

“We had absolutely no problem falling in love immediately, given his charm, way of carrying himself, his attitude and his appeal, but it got to the peak on the 6th day of our affair. After that, I started feeling insecure about myself and started to stick around Eshwar all the time, in order to secure my fears and anxiety about some unknown fear that was within my reach.”

“I realized it soon enough, when I heard that Eshwar had packed his bags and had gone to Chennai to couple business with his father and to marry Isha, the daughter of some damn leading industrialist, I didn’t bother. The only concern was not about the chameleon dumping me, but the life he had seeded inside me that would soon kick my belly and start demanding who its father was, once it came out of me. I could have never been done with aborting my child if it hadn’t been for my sister, Monisha.”

Her words started to extract drops of tears from my eyes and then my hands towards her. Rajeev had already made his moves towards Manisha’s sister Monisha, so I decided it was about time I made mine.
Turning to her, I half cried,

“Manisha, I know it is very cowardly for a man to cry, but it’s a good thing you told me about your past with Eshwar, because that’s made me not just to love you.”

“So I guess its good bye?” asked she, tentatively.

“That’s made me to marry you Manisha. Yes. I love you.” I whispered to her ears and, bit them playfully and took her in my hands…

After a night of intimacy, Manisha came up to me and asked, “Rohan, would this be another Eshwar episode and will I have to be thinking about you once you leave?”

“Never. Because am staying here for some more time, and am taking with you when I leave.”

Everything started to come out of the labyrinths of my heart and I filled Manisha about my entire life till date, about my real name, real background, the real tragedy and the death of Eshwar.

“Eshwar’s dead Manisha, so you don’t have to worry about him blackmailing you to let your privacy out to the village.”
Something deep inside her pupils stirred, showing some sign of regret, but it disappeared as soon as it came.

That day, Manisha slammed my heart another time, to change my life in another angle.

“Come with me Roshan, come with me.”
“Where?”

“I’ll show you”

She took me to her father’s fields where a scarecrow was standing tall in the midst of green terrain of crops dappling its stick like legs. Manisha ruffled its belly to pull out a sheaf of yellowed papers. What I saw there shook me terribly.
My knees started shaking uncontrollably on seeing the company’s legal papers hidden cunningly in the scarecrow by Eshwar, during his stay at his native village.

Running my hand over the papers, I asked Manisha,

“How come you knew?”

“It was once when Eshwar managed to slip from me and went to the fields to help my father in farming. But me, unconvinced, followed him to find what that was. At that time I couldn’t understand what it all meant. Ghoshal…Roshan…..Rajeev…shares stocks and dividends, confused me and made me even more curious to discover what it all was. Now I think I've found the right person to give it to.”

She smiled.

I looked at her. It had grown dark. The jackdaws were swooping on the pumpkins to get a juicy bite out of them. The day’s harvest was being burnt in a huge bonfire in the midst of an open space.

“Eshwar would have thought this was the most unlikely location for me to come searching for my company’s legal papers, but he was wrong. Fate… It’s something that pushed me to the love of my life, who directed me to my passion, which was to be eaten up by a cheat, a betrayer and a forgerer, who met his end in the most suitable way God, could have ever decided. God…speaking of him/it/that, (I can’t find a way to describe God) This incident thrust the realization that some power exists which created the skies, Earth, Manisha, Me, brutes like Eshwar. Some call it Ram, Jesus, Mohammed, but I learnt to call him God, and learnt that everyone have a reason to call him in their own way, to appreciate the wonder of that infinite power that binds them all together in this Earth.”

“It’s now useless to expose myself to the public to claim back my company. They have declared Roshan and Rajeev dead and no one knows we are alive except for you, and Monisha. Let us keep my name and my brothers name a secret from everyone else, even from your families. I have enjoyed City Life for 27 years. It’s about time I take a dose of hard work and the fresh village air for a part of my life. After our child’s born, let us go to some place outside India, and let the world forget us. I would be grateful to you if you agreed with me, dear.

And as for my company, it’s now being run by my cousin, who is as efficient, if not more, than my brother. “

Saying this I threw the papers into the bonfire, with Manisha, fully understanding the gravity of the situation spread out in front of me. She was by my side, holding no to my hand and watching the fire, graying the yellow papers, bit by bit, until the whole sheaf was coiled into ashes.

Turning back for one last time at my city life and the past, I turned ahead to face the rest of my life with my would-be wife, Manisha, My brother Rajeev, and my ‘bhabhi’ Monisha.”

Navdeep closed the diary and turned to his father, whose eyes met his. There was an exchange of untold words, promises, news and feelings, which were oblivious to Manisha, started to the kitchen to cook food to send her son to the college and her husband to work.