Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Sometime we land up at the wrong place, at the wrong time in the company of wrong people

I parked my car at parking zone opposite New Delhi railway station and rushed towards platform no. 14 to catch Shane-E-Punjab Express train. It was already 6.30 AM in the morning and the train’s scheduled departure time was 6.40-AM; since I had entered the station from Pahargunj side, it took me more than five minutes to reach platform no. 14. Thank God the train had not yet started but to my utmost surprise, after inspecting my ticket, the TTI informed me that the AC-Chair car Coach–C will be at the rear-end of the train and I must rush towards my coach. I started running towards my coach and started counting endless coaches and by the time I reached near my coach the train started moving slowly. I had just boarded the train, when someone shouted “Stop-stop” from behind. I looked back and saw one middle aged woman was running along the train but was not able to climb on to the coach because she was pulling one big trolley bag with her left hand and both her shoulders were occupied with laptop bag and big purse respectively on both sides. The train was still moving very slow, I just jumped down on the platform from the train, took her trolley bag and put it inside the coach and then took her laptop bag and literally pushed her into the train. Then I also boarded the train. Meanwhile, lots of people on the platform were simply standing and watching this drama but nobody came forward for any kind of assistance or help. Meanwhile, the train started moving faster towards Amritsar, the final destination of my journey.

I sat down on my seat and started reading my book. At Ambala Cant. station the train stopped and many vendors started moving around and offering, cold drinks, ice-creams, sandwiches, biscuits/potato-chips etc. Suddenly, I found one pantry boy handing me a packet of sandwich and 500 ml bottle of cold drink. I refused to accept it simply because I had not ordered it. But the vendor insisted me to take it but when I refused, he said: “Sahib, that Madam (who was sitting at the back) had paid for it and asked me to deliver it to you”. I got up from my seat, looked back and recognized her; she was the same lady who I helped in the morning to board this train. She folded both her hands and said: “Please accept it” I waived my hand back and said “Thank you” in appreciation.

At Ludhiana station, my adjacent seat got vacant and after few minutes I saw her standing next to my seat smiling; she asked me in Bengali: “Can I sit here?” I replied with a smile to have that seat. After taking the seat, she folded both her hands and wished me and pronounced her name: “Dr. Sutopa Sanyal”. I also reciprocated in the same manner giving brief introduction of mine. She asked me very hesitantly: “How do you know that I am a Bengali and by the way, how come you speak Bengali so fluently?” She asked me two questions in a row. I told her about the three types of bangles (Iron, Shakha and Paula) she was wearing which only Bengali married women wore, besides at Delhi station she was talking to herself in Bengali and as regards me knowing Bengali well, since I was born and brought up in Calcutta, by default, I learnt this beautiful language. I also told her that I could speak and read Bengali fluently but I can’t write; moreover, I also told her about my favourite Bengali Authors and their books.

She was amazed to know about my keen interest about Bengali culture, customs, language, literature and people. Thereafter we both started talking to each other in Bengali language; and all other co-passengers of the compartment were looking at us in great surprise.

Dr. (Mrs.) Sutopa Sanyal, 40 plus of age, was an MBBS, MD in gynecology from very reputed Medical College of Kolkata. At present she was a senior surgeon and visiting faculty at all the top Medical Colleges and Hospitals of North India. She was having her own Nursing Home in South-Delhi. Her husband was working in a Private sector Bank and presently posted as Chief Manager at Amritsar main branch. She was forced to stay at Delhi because of her job and commitment towards her profession. At the same time, she was having very big, satisfied and rich clientele base in Delhi, who always wanted her to be available to them for consultations. She has got her parental house in Delhi where she was staying presently with her aged parents and her husband was staying all alone in Amritsar in Bank-leased-Bungalow, for last one month. She took three days' leave from her work so that she could be with her husband, because he was not well. He was diabetic with hypertension and lately had also developed breathing problem.

I could make out that she is not happy in her life. Although she was trying to pretend that she is very happy, satisfied and enjoying her life to the fullest but her big beautiful black eyes were telling a different story altogether. She was five feet four inches tall, with very slim and very fair complexion. But the dark black spots below her eyes were very prominent, which were telling another story. Meanwhile, she started working on her laptop and was answering questions to her patients for ten minutes and later looked at me and asked me: “Are you married?” I told her with a big smile: “Of-course I am married and blessed with three beautiful daughters; the elder one is already married, second one is working as a school teacher and the third one is an engineering student”.

She was looking at me in total disbelief and was almost shocked and surprised and she asked me very hesitantly: “How old are you?” I politely told her my age but she could not believe it. Anyway, later our discussions progressed towards my wife, my daughters, my job, my travel and my favourite books. But, through-out the journey she did not utter a single word about her family and intentionally, I also did not ask questions about them. But I don’t know why, she was trying her level best to control her emotions, feelings, sentiments and last but not the least her tears and she became successful also in controlling her emotions in front of a stranger. She could not hold her secret for long and finally confessed with wet eyes in sad voice: “I have been given a task to give children to every deserving woman but see my tragedy; I have not been blessed with a single child of my own though I have been instrumental in making many women mothers. At-least, I have one consolation in my life that I have helped many women who could not conceive or produce a healthy child initially but with the blessings and grace of God Almighty, I have been successful in my job of helping them to have babies; today I have only one mission in life to do my best in helping as many women to become mothers as possible. So that they can have their due respect and regard in being a complete woman and a respected Mother in our society”.

We reached Amritsar Station at 2.15-PM. While moving outside the platform, I offered her a lift up to her house before going to my hotel. She wanted to go to Lawrence road where her husband had rented out a new bungalow. I hired an auto rickshaw and we both proceeded towards her new house. It was not very far off place from the station and we reached Mr. Sanyal's house within fifteen. After dropping at her house, I wanted to bid good-bye to her but she insisted that I must come inside and meet her husband, who would be very happy to meet with me. I could not refuse her request and followed her.

She rang the bell of her house twice but nobody opened the door and in panic she started calling her husband’s name first slowly and later very loudly. After five minutes or so, he opened the door and was literally shocked to see us both standing in front of him. She started shouting on him and asking for the reason of the delay in opening the door. He was standing in silence looking like a statue without speaking a word. He told us to come inside first and took out a water bottle from the fridge and gave it to her. He must be in his early-fifties, with a very fair, heavy and tall figure. This man (Mr. Subrata Sanyal) in a glance did not seem like the husband of Dr. (Mrs.) Sutopa Sanyal’s from any angle.

Suddenly we saw one very young, beautiful, smart woman coming out of the bedroom and rushing straight out of the room without looking at us or uttering a single word. Dr. Sutopa looked at me in dismay first and then at her husband as if she was going to burn him alive with her naked eyes. Mr. Subrata Sanyal took her luggage inside and started explaining to his wife in Bengali. But within no time, I saw Dr. Sutopa broke down and cried very loudly. It was tough for me to calm her and bring the situation under control. And then she started shouting in much louder voice: “You know something, I could not become a mother, not because I was not capable of bearing a child but because he was not a man capable enough to make me a mother but still I accepted his weakness without any regret but see today what he was doing to me. He informed me only yesterday that he was not keeping well and that he was taking a few days sick leave to recuperate. Worried I was and came rushing today to see him and to be with him but for what, to see his real face with my own eyes that too in the presence of my new friend”.

She sat down on the floor of the house and started crying uninterruptedly. I was standing at one corner of the room and her husband at another side. We both were in a dilemma being total strangers but today at this very moment we both were standing at the wrong place, at the wrong time in the company of wrong people.

With Prayers
Gurcharan