The humane side of policemen(972)

 

The previous story had a negative perception of constabulary. In this story, the humane and compassionate side of policemen has been brought out.

The inspector of police was about to leave the police station for home. A constable came in to announce that a young lady wanted to see him urgently. She soon came behind him, a young lady in her late twenties. She seemed educated and spoke flawless English. The inspector was an elderly man about to retire in a year with a daughter of her age and a son well-settled.

Asked what brought her to the station, she said coolly, “I am in the adjacent complex. I wish to speak to you alone if I am allowed,”

The inspector gestured for the constable to leave the room and said,” Tell me now.”

 “I have poured acid on my husband’s face when he was asleep. He is writhing in pain at my home.”

The inspector could not believe his ears till she assured him that it was a fact. The inspector asked her to wait and remain silent. He arranged to send immediately a SI with a constable in a jeep to her home to admit the man in agony in a hospital.

Once this was taken care of, he asked her to sit down and narrate the events as they happened. After a glass of water, she said” I am a postgraduate in Botany and am a lecturer in a college. I made the mistake of falling in love with this man whom I married later. He was an exceptionally handsome guy, with an infectious smile, slightly effeminate, suave in manners and an engaging conversationalist that would sweep any woman off her feet. He is intelligent, cunning, lazy, fond of good living, easy money and adept in handling girls.

 When I fell in love with him, he told me he was an MBA and an executive in a big company. He took me around to places but took care not to take advantage of my mad love for him before marriage. This made me trust him more. I have no mother.

My father an old man, who is no more, took a look at him and talked to him for a few minutes. He later told me “Sunita, he rings fake to me. Something about him warns me that he is not right, though I cannot pinpoint it. Don’t be in a hurry to marry him. Have his statements verified thoroughly before you take this important decision.”

Foolish and headstrong as I was then, I ignored his suggestion and went ahead with the marriage. At the suggestion of my husband, it was a simple marriage with very few friends of his. It was only later after a few months that I found out, that he had no job, had no MBA and was a plain loafer. I also learnt to my utter shock that I was his fifth wife and that he had inveigled earlier many girls like me and married them, given them children and robbed them of their money. He went each night to one of the unfortunate women.”

The kindly inspector asked “Do you have any child? Have you also parted with your jewels and money as I see no gold on your neck or hands?”

She replied “Yes, I have lost all. Luckily, I have no child. He made me abort the one immediately after marriage as he did not have money for the hospital and I was not aware then of his shenanigans. The immediate provocation for my drastic step was his latest attempt to cheat a girl of nineteen or twenty into a marriage. I overheard his conversation when he assumed I was not at home. His looks were his asset and I decided to take it away from him so that no girl would ever fall victim any more to his wily moves. I took this decision consciously and am prepared to suffer punishment for it.”

The inspector kept quiet motioning her to remain silent and thought over the matter for a few minutes. He could see in the agitated young girl a picture of his daughter. He could visualise her mental torture of having been cheated by a riffraff. He had no sympathy for the young man who got his just desserts. What he was worried about was the wrong manner in which the justice was administered to him.

He coughed and told her in a quiet voice” Listen carefully, you are like my daughter. I trust what you have said. But I will make independent enquiries to test the veracity of your statements. If he is a culprit as you have explained, do not worry. You said that you poured the acid on his face when he was asleep. I hope he did not see you. He might have lost his vision by now. You have taken the law into your own hands. This doesn't seem right and punishable. I suggest you give me a statement duly signed that on entering the house from the college, you found your husband writhing in pain and that someone must have assaulted him with acid out of enmity. Utter no word to anyone that you did it and stick to this. I will bring this case to a successful conclusion to the great relief of his earlier five wives and the rescue of his potential sixth victim.”

He stood up, patted her on her shoulders and said “Don’t worry; you have a dad in me. Policemen aren’t as bad as they are often depicted.”

It can, however, be a matter of endless discussion, whether the inspector acted according to the law. What mattered was that he knew that real justice sometimes is denied in the name of law.

The clinching evidence (1297)

This is just a fictional story and there are many cases where police have shown great compassion and extended ready help in their call of duty.

Ranga was languishing for the last one day in this small lockup secured by a steel door. When he was asked earlier by a constable to follow him, he did not know why he was being taken away at 10 pm from his home. He asked his shocked wife to stay behind and not come to the police station on any count in the night. His two children, a girl of thirteen and a boy of ten years were sobbing. Ranga had no history of crime or even minor offences. He was a quiet person minding his work. His only weakness is for a glass of liquor after the day’s hard work and no one knew he drank except his wife.

The Sub Inspector with his frightening bushy moustache that extended from one ear to the other asked him in a gruff tone, ‘How long are you working with Manoj? “

Which Manoj, Sir?” asked Ranga softly

There was an instant slap on his face by the SI followed by a bark “Are you acting? I will break your bones, mind you, if you dare ask questions again. I mean the loafer Manoj who lives in the adjacent street of yours.”

“Oh, that Manojkumar. He studied with me in the municipal school and I have known him from my younger days. We are not in contact. What happened to him, Sir?”

“He murdered a man, to whom he had been selling Ganja and who owed him money and threatened to expose Manoj. We know he has been supplying the stuff but there is no proof to clinch in the court. If you sign a statement that you have known Manoj for a long time and are aware of his dealing with Ganja, we will let you go free. We know you are a good man. We need this cooperation from you to render justice to the murdered man,” said the SI

“Sir, I have not seen him for some years. Honestly, upon God, I am not aware of his dealing with Ganja. Though I have heard that he was threatening the petty shopkeepers and forcibly collecting money and spending it on liquor and cheap women, I knew nothing of Ganja. I avoided his company for these reasons.”

“So, you are not willing to cooperate with police to punish a murderer because he is your close friend. Mind you, fool, you will come to grief if you do not cooperate with us. I can book you also in the same case. I have enough people who will give evidence of your partnering with Manoj. It is late. Be a good man. You have a young wife and a teenage daughter. Tomorrow morning your wife will come. Talk to her if you wish to. I want the signed statement by 9 am. Don’t say I have not warned you. I know the ways to extract the statement from you. Don’t push me to that length.” saying this he left.

He could not sleep that night at all. He was tormented with the thought if the police fellows foist some false case on him and put him in jail, his wife and children would come to the street. They have no one to look after them. There was no money too as they were living hand to mouth. But his conscience would not allow him to utter a lie against Manoj as he had no contact with him at all. He did not know how to escape from the clutches of police without making a false charge on a man who did not harm him.

Early in the morning, the policeman nudged him with his baton. He saw his wife standing before him with dishevelled hair and eyes that spoke of a sleepless night. She was crying inconsolably.

Ranga asked her “Why are you crying so much? What happened? Did anyone trouble you? Tell me quickly.”

She said hitting her head with her hands” I have not seen our daughter since morning. She went out at 5 am to relieve herself. I dozed away. In the morning when I woke up, she was not there. I checked hither and thither. She is not to be seen.”

Ranga was shocked beyond words and started crying like a child along with his wife. The SI entered just then and asked what the commotion was all about. When the constable explained about the daughter missing, he laughed loudly.

He called Ranga by his side, patted him on his shoulder and said in a very assuring voice “Don’t worry about your daughter. I will trace and fetch her unharmed within an hour or even less. But you must do your duty to the country in punishing a murderer by signing this statement. Read carefully. You have only said that you have seen him having possession of Ganja in the past. You are not talking of murder or any such thing you have not seen. I will not ask you to do such wrong things. I am interested in your welfare for the sake of my sister, your wife. Be good and reasonable.”

He ordered two cups of tea and placed the pen in his hand. He told the constable to leave them alone.

When Ranga wanted to see the girl first, the SI told him “OK, I will have her searched immediately and bring her here on the condition you agree to sign the statement. Tell me in five minutes after talking to your wife.”

In ten minutes, the drama ended with the girl safely with Ranga and his wife and the signed statement in the hands of SI.

Foolproof evidence of Ganja-dealing by Manoj was available to the police to clinch the murder charge.

“You may go home now but remember you must come here whenever you are wanted. If you are going out of town, do tell me in advance,” instructed the SI. It was then his phone on the table rang. As soon as he heard the speaker at the other end, the SI stood up deferentially saying,” Yes Sir…. Did not know sir..., Will do Sir…, Sorry Sir.,” even as he was looking at Ranga and his wife now and then.

When the brief call was over, he wiped his sweating face and asked Ranga,” Why did you not tell me at the first instance the municipal councillor is your wife’s brother? Who informed him about your being brought to the station? Did your wife tell him?"

When she said that she did not, the girl said innocently, that she went to her uncle early morning and informed him about Dad having been taken away to the police station and kept there.

Shrugging his shoulders in disgust, the SI said, "Anyway the damage has been done by your daughter. Never mind, I will allow you all to go home. I will have called someone else to get the evidence. But you must do me a favour. Ask your wife to inform her brother that you were treated well at the station with dignity and were asked some questions about one Manoj. Please ask her not to mention on any account about the paper you signed. I will ask the jeep driver to drop you all at your home. I will not trouble you anymore. We will be friends. If you need any help, you can always reach me.”

Ranga did not reveal that the councillor was only his wife's cousin and not a brother but assured him,” I will tell her  surely, Sir."

Turning the cigarette lighter on, the SI said,” Here is the paper you had signed. Before you leave, do burn it here itself to rest assured,” and the SI sighed in relief when it was turned into ashes.

 

No act of kindness is ever wasted (1248)

Kittu, a charming young boy hardly 17, knew very well that he was not a normal young teen like others of his age but very different from his siblings and others. He was given to criminal ways even at this young age. He bore no grudge, however, when people in the locality including his family members spoke ill of him. He knew they were right in thinking that he had brought shame to his family and was an unwelcome member of the locality.

 He fell into bad ways and wrong company from a very young age when he started smoking thrown-away cigarettes. He stole from his dad’s purse and filched things in the house to get money from the pawnbroker. He started drinking cheap liquor whenever he had money from picking pockets and snatching mobile phones/chains.

 He was at the bottom of his class that he was doing second time. He was severely warned by the school authorities when he wrote a love letter to his teacher. He was rusticated when he kissed a girl of his class in the presence of all in the corridor as they were coming out of the class. Even at that young age, he visited whores much older than him. He posed as a rich man in stolen cars and duped several girls promising marriage. He was into drugs too. To make matters worse, he had a deep scar on his jaw to mar his handsome face somewhat in a scuffle with rowdy elements

Little wonder that his parents and siblings disowned him and avoided him completely, till one day his dad hit him with his belt ordering him to get out of his sight and the house forever. The memory of his helpless mother with tears trickling from her eyes was still vivid in his mind.

He had no regret that he had not made his family proud of him. With the passage of years, all his siblings settled in life and had nice small families. His eldest brother Raju had always a soft corner for him being the youngest in the family. He had often pleaded with him in vain to mend his ways. Even after Kittu left them, Raju used to give him some money whenever they met on the road and would tell him that the doors of his house were always open, if only, he changed to honourable ways.

However much, Kittu respected and liked him, he could not change himself. Life was alternating between good and hard times for him depending on his illegal earnings. There were nights when he splurged in good restaurants and nights when he had to sleep hungry. He had no decent place to live and kept changing to nearby towns like a nomad as the police were hounding him. He had already done some small terms in the prison. Years flew by and he was leading a humdrum life in an adjacent town.

Kittu came to know one evening from an acquaintance that his brother Raju was in the hospital in a critical condition. He thought of his good-natured wife and their three young children. Raju was not well off and his family depended solely on his monthly salary. Kittu became restless and took the next bus to his town. Luckily, he had hit pay dirt a week back when he filched with his nimble fingers a thick wallet from a careless rich man dozing in the mall. Money was no problem.

It was past 7 pm when he reached the hospital. He saw his parents, Raju’s wife and other brothers in the lounge with grim faces turned away from him. His mother was seen weeping. Except for her and Raju’s wife, everyone showed their scorn for him. Both of them dared not speak to him in the presence of his dad who had nothing but contempt for him.

 His dad came to him and said in a curt tone “You are not wanted here. Please go away.”

 Kittu replied, “This is a public place and I do not require your leave to stay here.” His dad turned abruptly and left in a huff.

Kittu went to the nurse sitting in the workstation and told her that he was Raju’s close friend and that he had come to help him in any manner if only he knew what his problem was. She thought for a while and said,” The patient is suffering from chronic renal failure of both kidneys. He has become too weak even for dialysis. Immediate transplantation of the kidney was the only option to save him. The one snag was his unusual blood group which posed a problem in getting donors readily. The blood groups of the willing family members did not match. The situation has become critical as the patient had fallen into a coma.”

It was then the senior surgeon attending to his brother entered. Kittu accosted him despite protests from the nurse and told him,” Doctor, I am patient's very close friend and a single. I am a healthy individual and am willing to donate voluntarily out of my affection for him one of my kidneys immediately. I would request you to check the compatibility of our blood groups. I am willing to sign any required form. Kindly do the needful immediately.”

 After thinking for a few moments, the surgeon readily agreed and explained the procedure.

“My only stipulation is that my identity should not be revealed under any circumstances to the patient or his family,” he pleaded. The surgeon assured him and asked him to get admitted the next day itself.

Things went smoothly thereafter. With the tests revealing compatibility, one of his healthy kidneys was removed and successfully transplanted to him. In a fortnight his brother was discharged and certified as fit. Kittu too was discharged in a few days.

Kittu learnt from the doctor that the patient’s parent and his family wanted to know the name and whereabouts of the benefactor for them to thank and reward him suitably and that he had declined to part with the information.

Raju himself requested the surgeon to give some clues about his benefactor.

“I am bound by my promise to him not to reveal his name or identity. You are embarrassing me with this request,” the surgeon replied. When he saw his patient’s face fall, he said,” I can only tell this much that he had a scar and I refuse to answer any further questions.” The surgeon did not fail to notice a faint smile on Raju’s face.

The effects of surgery had left Kittu weak and exhausted. He could not go out for nearly two months to do the shady work he was accustomed to. As a result, perhaps, there were no policemen after him to worry about. He observed his heart was filled with hitherto unknown happiness that he could do one good turn to his brother who was kind to him and he wondered what magic it could do if the kindness could reach more deserving people. As a sense of sincere contrition passed through his heart, Kittu felt an unusual peace and calm descend on him.

He decided to meet his brother soonest and confide in him his resolution to turn a new leaf and seek his help in finding him a suitable job to lead his own life separately in honourable ways. He could visualise his mother’s face suffused with joy at the return of the prodigal.

A clever ploy

 

A very old  story written in jest with no offence to those who have faith in and swear by astrology

Kaushik’s father, a senior lawyer by profession, spent on his post-retirement days a major part of his time on astrology. Most of the folks in his locality and nearby places used to approach him to make horoscopes for their kids, with horoscopes of their grownup offspring for checking compatibility with those of prospective spouses, for choosing an auspicious date for starting a new venture, building a house or for remedial measures for defects in horoscopes. Kaushik was the youngest among two sons and a daughter.

This story is not about Kaushik’s family but how his dad’s deep faith in astrology and his abiding trust in the predictive powers of horoscopes affected him. Both the elder brother and sister were married and happily settled. Kaushik was 30, well qualified and well employed earning a handsome salary. He was in good health, a tall and handsome man, which caused female colleagues often to linger around him to have small chats with him. Many young women had shown romantic inclinations that he would have gladly reciprocated but for the injunction against marriage put by his dad on planetary considerations. He would not reveal what exactly the planets foretold except the vague reply that they were hostile to his wellbeing if he got married before 33. His prodding to be more specific yielded no response. His timid mother with a worried face would constantly be visiting temples and offering prayers for his wellbeing. 

Kaushik, busy moving up in the career with an eye for a position in the US, was also not keen on marriage till he was recently drawn to a colleague, Kavya. They met almost daily and very often went out to restaurants and movies. With no progress in their romance except these daily meetings, she obliquely pointed one day to his single status and asked him with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes whether he was waiting for the right woman to come across to propose.

“No, I have found her already and spend quite some time with her daily in the office and restaurants,” he said with a wink

“Then what holds you in proposing to her? Maybe she is waiting for you to take the first step” she said with a smile. 

It was then Kaushik confided to her his dad’s objection on astrological grounds to his getting married before he crossed 33 and hence his hesitancy to commit to the lady whom he loved.

“My God, do you believe and decide on important matters of your life from the 16 squares in a horoscope? I thought you were modern and just cannot believe you are a superstitious old hat,” she said in disappointment with a scowl on her face.

“Not like that, dear I just do not wish to displease my dad or make fun of his beliefs and more importantly I had not met my lady till recently,” he said with a twinkle.

“Now that you have found your ladylove, you should have no difficulty in taking things forward”

“True, but I must also confide in you that my brother one day in a moment of weakness confided that there were strong indications in my Kundli that my life would come to an abrupt end before I was 33 and that was the reason dad was not inclined to jeopardize some young woman’s life. I also saw the logic in it.”

“What nonsense? Do you believe in all this balderdash?”

“Okay, let me ask you a question. Would you marry someone who is predicted though unscientifically and irrationally to die in three years? Would you not fear every moment? You are no Savitri of mythology to bring back the dead alive,” he countered her

“You are mistaken. I would willingly and enthusiastically jump at the offer. I have no faith in all these hokum. Even if something happens, I would not attribute it to the horoscope.”

“Wow, would you marry me then?”

“Where did I say I would marry you? Ask me directly and propose formally” she said with a beaming smile

As Kaushik made a formal gesture by bending his knee and extending his arm, both broke into laughter and hugged each other to the amusement of many in the restaurant.

 “Tell me seriously how to go about it. Frankly, I cannot wait for three years. But no matter my strong disbelief in the system. there is a lurking fear what if the prediction came true?” Kaushik said

“Okay, I have a spark. What if I ask my dad to take my horoscope to your dad for reading my future, and specifically the longevity of my would-be spouse? I am free with my dad and have already told him obliquely that our love is in the initial stages. Luckily, he does not set much store by astrology. He would certainly not talk about you to your dad or where I work.”

A week later Kavya showed her thumbs up when she entered my cabin and said “As per your dad’s reading of my horoscope that he has written in his hand that I would be happily married for long with four children.  Shed your fear. If you marry me, you should live to a minimum of 42 to get four kids even at the earliest and in quick succession!”

“What shall we do now?” he asked wondering at her ability to checkmate his dad.

“Let us fix a convenient day, get our marriage registered and conducted in a temple in a simple style and present a fait accompli. We will take a transfer to our head office. You can break the news quite later. What do you say?”

Forgetting it was an office, he hugged her tightly and she smothered him with smooches.

According to the latest report, it  is reliably learnt that Kaushik and Kavya have been working in Minneapolis, US for the last five years and have two kids aged five and three.

When kindness touches the heart

The world is still not bereft of extremely honest and compassionate people even when they are themselves in trying circumstances. Here is one touching story written long back that I wish to share.

Hiralal was leaning on his yellow-coloured Ambassador cab at Howrah station waiting for the last train. It was past 11 pm. The train from Delhi it seemed was running late. He could not say he had a good day and most of his rides were for short distances that did not fetch him much. As a principle, he never asked for more than the metered fare for he considered it a form of begging. Scrupulously honest he never tampered with the meter. He had some self-made rules. He never refused to take a pregnant woman however short or long the distance may be. He avoided drunken men, gangs of troublesome-looking youngsters or shady-looking couples. He would be happy if he got a foreign tourist or an occasional rich man. The latter type has their cars.

In the morning, his wife Meena reminded him that there was no stock of groceries and unless he fetched some money, the children would go hungry. She had also said the youngest girl was suffering from a fever for two days and had to be taken to a doctor. His elder son told him that the last date for school fees was over ten days back. His mom’s request for a blanket to protect herself from chillness was remaining unattended to for a month. His immediate concern was to earn some money to buy food for his family.

He wiped his old car clean and took care of it as if it were his child. He put a lighted joss stick in front of Ma Kali’s picture on the dashboard and said a quick prayer. He saw some quick movement amongst the other drivers towards the station to solicit passengers. The prepaid taxi counter had closed by 10 pm. Hiralal heard the hoot of the train and there was a scramble for a vantage position amongst the cabbies to catch the attention of arriving passengers.

Hiralal stood a little away from others on the opposite side. The other drivers managed to get passengers and started driving away one by one. When the arriving passengers became a trickle, he got worried and the starving family came to mind. He quickly prayed again Ma Kali when an elderly gentleman with a suitcase and a bag approached him. He looked tired and unable to pull the box.

” Baba, let me take your box and bag. I will take you wherever you want to go. Please come with me and get into the car.”

He opened the door and made him sit comfortably. He kept the box and bag in the boot of the car. As he sat at the wheel and started the car, he asked the elderly passenger “Where am I supposed to take you?”

“Lake market. Once you reach there, I will direct you further. I have never seen anyone taking a passenger without asking for the destination. You seem a good person”

“Thanks, Baba. I don’t ask normally and today wherever you wished to go I would have taken you” he replied

“What is special today?”

“Since morning I have had only a few rides mostly minimum fare. I need to take some money home. My wife has asked me not to come home without money to buy groceries for the kitchen”

“Oh, oh I am sorry to hear about it. Don’t worry. I will pay you two hundred rupees more than the fare. I have no family or children and tomorrow is Makar Sankranti. Are you in the Lake Market area and in which case I can use your cab regularly?”

“No, Baba. Pay me the due fare. I don’t wish to take more”

“I am not feeling well. Let me rest for a while.” he said and took a five hundred rupee note from his pocket.” Keep this with you. You can return me the balance if any after taking the extra two hundred rupees” he said and dropped the note in front seat by the side of the driver.

“Why now itself? What is the hurry? “Hiralal protested mildly but found the elderly man resting with closed eyes. He did not disturb him as he said he was tired. He tried to pick up some conversation near the Victoria Memorial. But he seemed to be asleep. Again, as he crossed Bhowanipore and was nearing Hazra Road he asked “Baba, we are nearing Kalighat and will soon be at Lake Market. Wake up to give me directions”

There was again no reply. Worried he stopped the car near the tram depot and nudged him. The man fell on his sides. He quickly got out of the car and. nudged him repeatedly calling “Baba, Baba.” When there was no response, he quickly turned the car to take him to Ramakrishna Mission Hospital nearby. The doctors there pronounced him dead on arrival after a massive cardiac arrest.

 Hiralal told them of the circumstances and gave them his address and the taxi number. He left the bag and the box with hospital authorities. The fare including the extra Rs.200 was only 360 rupees. He inserted Rs.140 in the dead man’s pocket to the amused stare of those around and left the hospital in tears after paying obeisance to the departed soul.

 

Quo Vadis

 

Umapathi alighted at the nondescript railway station in the early hours of the morning. It was still dark outside and he preferred to rest in the tinned shed that did the duty of a waiting hall. After the train had left, the station was empty except for a couple of cows chewing the cud and a stray dog with its legs raised under a tree. A strong-built man, Umapathi looked around fifty-five years old, tall and muscular and with a few days bristle on his face.

At the break of dawn with some light emerging, he got up and started walking out of the station. There was some urgency in his stride as he walked briskly towards the distant village of his younger days. It was about nine kilometres away. With eager expectation of a reunion with his family and at the same time assailed by doubts about their well-being during his long absence, he was virtually running.

 It seemed to him that he left the village only the other day despite the intervening thirty long years. He had joined the army without letting know the family when he was just twenty-five fearing they may prevent him and soon went to the front to fight a war. One day he was not to be seen. None in the army knew what happened to him. The authorities presumed he must have been captured by enemy forces or killed. They were also not sure about it. The nearest kin were informed that he was untraceable and his things were sent to them. Umapathi had left behind a young wife of twenty-two with two young children. There was no way of communicating his capture by the enemy forces to the Indian army. He was not allowed to write. He was interned in a cell for prisoners condemned to death in a prison in a remote part of the country.

There were talks repeatedly of his being sent to the gallows but nothing happened. He behaved well and assisted the jail authorities in several small ways. He gave up hopes of being set free that he nursed in the initial years. He reconciled himself to his misery. He had no inkling that he would be released suddenly one fine morning. He was not aware of the tremendous efforts of human rights activists outside the prison walls to save prisoners like him.

When at last he reached his village, he found it had changed into a small town. There were modern buildings, a bazaar, and two and three-wheelers crisscrossing with people busily engaged in different activities. There was not a single known face. Only the temple and the small tank opposite it were familiar and served him as a landmark to his small house. When he saw in its place, a two-storied building, he was surprised.

With a gnawing but unknown worry deep in his heart, he asked an old man on the steps of the tank whether he was aware of the whereabouts of Umapathi’s family. The old man did not know whom Umapathi was talking about.

 He told him,” One Umapathi was living in a small house decades back at the place where the two-storeyed house stood, who had joined the army secretively three decades back and left his young wife Valli with two children behind. Have you any idea about his family and their well-being?

The old man scratched his head and asked him” Are you talking about the Sepoy Uma as we used to call him? Don’t you know he died in the war a long time back? Who are you anyway?”

 Umapathi replied,” I am his friend and interested in meeting his family.”

“Uma’s wife and her children are living in that big building constructed after demolishing the old one. She waited for him for ten years and her parents had died in the meanwhile. She was leading a very difficult life. It was then the owner of the provision store in the village who had lost his wife took pity on her and married her. They have two children of their own too,” replied the old man

 “Did she agree to marry him readily?” asked Umapathi.

“She was not willing initially as she still nursed a hope Uma may return someday. It was only after the elders in the village persuaded her to marry him for the sake of her children convincing her that there was no prospect of her husband ever returning, that she relented.” and added,” Her second husband is a nice person, owner of a big supermarket and very affectionate to her and her children through Umapathi,”

Umapathi just said Hmm and looked vacantly at the big building unsure of what to do.

 The old man continued,” The children are all studying in colleges and schools. She is very happy now after leading a miserable and uncertain life for several years. Are you meeting them now? Her husband would leave for the store after lunch and should be available now.”

Umapathi replied, “I would meet them soon after buying some sweets. Thank you very much.”

He quietly returned to the station with a heavy heart. He didn’t know what to do. He sat on a bench at the empty station for hours till the station master nudged him telling him that the train was expected any moment and asked him,” Where are you going?” for him to issue the ticket.

Umapathi kept quiet for a long time and when nudged again replied with vacant eyes” Anywhere”.

The station master looked at him quizzically, unable to comprehend but did not stop him when he entered a compartment in the train without a ticket..