Contemporary Relations

Remote past and the two score years of life that he had spent in that small town would be enough to keep him mentally busy for the remaining few years of his life which he had decided to spend somewhere on the mountains near Shimla, exactly he did not know where. His only possession, a small black shoulder bag, with a few clothes, books, and a small tape recorder, which was the most precious possession. He was sitting at the window seat and the bus was slowly climbing the mountainous road leading to Shimla town, his home town.

He knew he would not find anyone there, for his parents had already passed away when he was leaving the town at the age of twenty-four. His elder sister had gone away with her husband and he did not know where.

Age had tired Raman and he closed his eyes. He was past seventy but he felt that there was nothing else to do in the world and he wanted to die somewhere very peacefully. He had already instructed his bank to transfer his saved money, mounting to a few million, to their Shimla branch. He had only one consolation in life that he was not going to die a poor man. He had already bought a cottage near Shimla town and hired a couple to take care of the house and household chores. Shambu and his wife were from a village near the town. They had been working in the kitchen of a British gentle man before they came across an advertisement given by Raman. They were happy that only one old man had to be taken care of. Raman had thoroughly interviewed them and found that the couple had all the virtues he had been trying to find. He had already sent them a telegram that he would be arriving by bus, for he had already sold all his cars, four of them, and the mini bus which he had his family used for picnics and outings.

The cool breeze entering through the window made it easier for Raman to fall into a sleep.

That was the first day in town collage, in Bangalore, where he was going to study for the following four years to become a computer software engineer. After the death of his parents, he had taken a bold decision and sold his father’s house in Shimla and with that money he had decided to pursue his dream of becoming a software engineer. He had paid four years’ fee, hostel charge, and other expenses in advance and he was left with substantial amount of money which he deposited in a local bank in Bangalore.

The students looked happy and bright. It was not easy to pass the admission and Raman was sure that they had to be bright if they were there. Nothing untoward happened on the first day. He had heard a lot that the senior students troubled the new students in the first week of their arrival.

Raman was very lucky and he found a friend in Reema, a classmate from Dehradun. They became friends because they spoke the same language, besides English. They were from the mountains and the topics they liked to discuss about were similar. The modernity had not even passed by them. She was the daughter of a retired Brigadier but her mother had left the world when Reema was only nine. She had an elder brother who was in America and, according to her; there was little contact between them. He had married an American girl and settled there.

Four years of togetherness and almost similar background, in the context of place and environment, brought them closer and after the completion of her studies, she wrote to her father. Raman had already found a good job in a software company. She had decided to start her own software company with the help of her father. Her father visited Bangalore and Raman and Reema got married in a very simple ceremony.

After the marriage, Reema requested him to leave his job and help her in her new company but Raman said that he had a lot to learn and he was going to make it on his own. Nothing was lacking in life because people who had entered computer business in those days were said to be earning much more than that earned by the people in any other business. In the following three years, Raman changed the company because he had been appointed the CEO of an American joint venture.

Reema was doing wonderfully well and her software was in great demand. She had a team of fifty expert people and they worked day and night.

In the fifth year, she gave birth to a son. After that, in the seventh year she gave birth to a baby girl. Now their house which they had recently bought began to become home. Raman spent most of his time with his children, after his return from his office. There were servants but he liked doing little things for his son and daughter. He felt ecstatic seeing their little pranks.

They were sent to Nainital Schools for schooling. Raman provided them the best of the hostels and education. Every year, the children came home for two months in their winter vacation. Raman and Reema spent most of their time with their children during those two months. They would hardly ever go to their offices.

After their college education, Sonu, Raman’s son, and Geetanjali, the daughter, forced the parents that they wanted to go for higher studies in USA. Though Raman did not like the idea, he had to yield before his wife’s wish.

The pace of life had become too much for Raman and he wanted to take a pause but it was impossible.

That day the first blow came when Sonu phoned him and said, “Hi Pa! I am getting married!”

“What?”

“Yes, she is a very nice girl. We don’t have much time left otherwise we would have come there to meet you people.”

“And what should I tell your mother?” Raman’s voice was trembling.

“She can meet Jeanie when we visit India next year. I have started a new company here and we will be quite busy in the following ten months.”

Raman could not believe all that he was hearing. His son, Sonu, his little son had shocked him. He did not know whether to feel happy or shed a few tears.

Reema reacted in the similar manner when he told her about their son’s phone call. She had, perhaps, one hope left. The hope of light was our daughter. Reema was sure that their daughter would not take any such step.

But they were wrong. Geetanjali, their daughter, had her own ideas of life. She had been living together with her new boy friend. In past four years, she had gone through three breakups. She was a shattered girl and she had taken to drugs. Rich parents continued to send her money but they did not know that their money was being burnt in the cigarettes and cocaine.

One morning, Raman had a phone call from America. The caller was from New York Rehabitation Centre. Their daughter was in the hospital. She was critically ill. The doctors had tried their best to save her but they failed.

After the death of their daughter, Reema stopped going to office. She was deeply hurt and the signs began to appear in the following months. She began to eat less and less. She hardly talked; she kept on staring at Geetanjali’s dolls, and little clothes. She wept for hours. Raman tried every possible way to bring her back to mainstream life but nothing worked. She began to drown and after about a year she caught bed and never got up. She died of the disease the doctors called brain fever.

The three decades of life with her was floating in front of Raman’s eyes, while he was performing the last rites over her dead body.

After thirteen days of mourning, he decided to go to office but his heart was not with him. He had phoned his son many times but to no avail. He said that his wife was expecting their second child and it was impossible to leave her alone in Washington where they lived.

Next ten years went in inactivity. Raman closed his businesses one by one. He sold his wife’s company.

Suddenly, the bus stopped with a jerk and Raman was startled out of his sleep. A sweet dream was shattered and horrible reality was facing him. He slowly shouldered his bag and began to amble along the aisle.