The Confluence
Where two stark worlds meet
The following short story is inspired from my visit to an obscure fort near a criminally ignored historical town in central India, some time in the year 2015.
**
“Five hours to go before our train departs. What do we do till then, in this wretched town?”
I still smile when I recall the exasperation with which I had asked Ayaansh this question. It was an incredibly hot day, and my irritation was being compounded by the putrid air that I was being forced to breathe.
“How do they even live in shit-hole?” I was indignant, as if accusing my colleague of having caused the mess that was apparent all around in the city.
The ever genial and composed Ayaansh seemed to enjoy my peevishness. That, and the fact that he seemed to be enamored by a crumbling old mediaeval wall just a few meters away from where our car was parked, agitated me even more.
“What’s so special about that wall?”
Ayaansh turned towards me and smiled.
“This town was a walled city during the mediaeval times Aashirya. Can’t you appreciate the fact that this thing has been standing here for hundreds of years. It would have witnessed so many events, and so many seasons. Imagine the stories its red stones can tell us.”
Just to humor him, I shifted my gaze towards his object of affection. But the very next moment I turned my eyes away.
“Look at the way that guy is peeing all over your lovely red stones. And I certainly don’t want to imagine the number of times that would have happened over the past hundreds of years. I can’t stand the smell. Can’t we get moving somewhere?”
Ayaansh sighed and revved up the engine. As we got moving, I took out a fragrant wet tissue from my handbag and started inhaling it.
We were in that town for official work. Our job involved auditing the manufacturing facility at a huge textile mill situated at the periphery of the town. For the better part of two days, we had been busy accomplishing our purpose, post which we were waiting desperately for our return train to Mumbai. Or at least, I was.
“Come on Aashirya, look around, and experience what life is like in more than ninety percent of the country we call our home.”
I wanted to kick him at that point, but restrained myself.
I also could never appreciate the study of history during school. The very idea of living and remembering the past, which was for all means dead and buried, appalled me. I saw no point in remembering it and exalting its stature. Reflecting on our past glory was not going to take us anywhere in the future; that much I was always certain about. I hated it when politicians spoke of our rich heritage in their rallies to audiences which were majorly undereducated and unemployed. What was the point in making those imbeciles feel good about themselves on the basis of some things their ancestors once did?
All that these small cities represented to me was laziness, and lack of ambition. The development of our country was being spearheaded by the metros, where industry thrived. Where MNCs, such as the one I and Ayaansh worked for, operated. It was us who were taking this country ahead, and thus it was to us the country owed all the admiration and sense of wonder. Not to those decrepit historical relics.
I had expressed all these thoughts to Ayaansh once, and to my utter annoyance he had just laughed instead of responding.
“It is easy enough to laugh away common sense. It is a way of accepting defeat in an argument.” I had snapped.
“I will not enter into this argument with you, mainly because I like you and don’t wish to change that sentiment.” He had snapped back.
“But don’t you agree with me that these small cities are keeping us chained to the past, and not letting us grow as fast as we can?” I had not wanted to let the issue go without knowing his views.
“No I don’t. And I can’t believe that an admirably sharp person such as you can harbor such silly thoughts.” He had said calmly, without letting the tone of his voice rise.
I could guess the arguments he would have made, had he decided to open up his cards. But to my disappointment, he had not indulged me further and had proceeded to change the topic.
On this day too, I was sure that he was deliberately trying to bristle me by saying the exact things I hated to hear. But I did not mind really as I was really fond of him. His earnestness and honesty were refreshing in the cut-throat competitive world we lived in, and those qualities made me truly adore him. Unfortunately for me though, he was married and that too quite happily. Moreover, his wife was as lovely a person as he was.
“You know Aashirya, each and every person we see around here is playing some or the other role in the economy. Some of us are more privileged than others, having been born in well to do setups, and having had better access to modern education. But that doesn’t mean that we are the only ones pulling this country along.”
Our car was on a state highway by then, speeding away from the center of the town.
“You are such a commie Ayaansh!” I barked.
Ten minutes later, it seemed that we had entered a different world. The road was surrounded by little hills surrounded by a large expanse of agricultural fields. We also passed some wastelands, dotted by thickets and shrubbery. Ayaansh switched off the car air-conditioner and rolled down the windows, to let the fresh air from outside fill up our lungs.
“Just amazing isn’t it. Acres and acres of land. Hardly exploited. And completely deserted by the looks of it.” I gaped as I consumed the views outside.
“There are many people there Aashirya, in these open spaces, look more closely.”
“I can hardly see anyone Ayaansh. Don’t bullshit with me.”
I checked the time and was aghast to note that it had hardly moved.
“Where are we going by the way? You don’t intend to just keep driving into the wilderness?”
Ayaansh smiled and didn’t answer immediately. And when he did, it made me crosser.
“There is a little known fort about forty kilometers from here. Very few people appreciate its historical importance. I do, so I thought I should treat you.”
“Not again Ayaansh!” I almost shouted, annoyed beyond measure.
**
We did not speak to each other for the next few minutes as our car kept speeding past the vistas of the Deccan plateau. It took a great effort on my part to abstain from entering into another conversation. Ayaansh, who had an enviable ability to enjoy silences, did not make any effort to break them. The highway that we were travelling on was almost deserted during that time of the day. Thus, our car comfortably kept overtaking the occasional mini-trucks and state transport buses.
“There it is. Look.” Finally Ayaansh pointed in the direction of a hill towards our right. Remains of ancient fortifications could be seen at its top.
I did not want to admit it, but the sight looked magical. The sun had gone behind the clouds, and it had started drizzling, making the landscape look greener. The majestic grey walls of the fort seemed to form a nice contrast with the bluish hues capping them.
“We don’t have to walk all the way up, do we?” I asked apprehensively.
“The road is motor-able, right till the entrance gates of the fort.” Ayaansh took a sharp uphill turn and the car started making its way on the road that led to the fort. Both sides of the road were swamped by wild growing shrubbery, and the entire stretch was absolutely deserted. The latest rainy season had apparently taken its toll on the road, which was full of potholes.
“I don’t think many people venture out to this fort of yours.” I remarked, slightly taken aback by the lack of company while approaching the top.
“It is a weekday. I didn’t expect much of a crowd anyway.” Ayaansh remarked, completely unperturbed.
A few minutes later, we finally made it to our destination. Huge wooden gates welcomed us, as we got down and walked towards the stone structure.
“Splendid, isn’t it?” Ayaansh was gushing at the sight of the fort entrance.
“There is no ticket? There is absolutely no one out here Ayaansh. Do you really think we should go inside?” I had started getting a creepy feeling by then, fueled by the lack of any human presence apart from the both of us.
“Don’t be squeamish, Aashirya. Come on.”
Reluctantly, I followed Ayaansh up the staircase that started just inside the wooden entrance gate. Two flights of steps later, we emerged at the top of the fort. Many old structures dotted the place. But heavy growth of weeds and wild shrubs populated the approaches to most buildings. Some minarets and ramparts could be seen along the length of the outer wall. Ayaansh jumped around like a schoolboy, clicking pictures and gazing at the stones, while I stood in a corner waiting for him to finish. It was then that I saw a woman in the middle of the thickets, cutting down some weeds around an old decrepit temple. Apparently, I had been looking in her direction for a good five minutes, before my eyes could actually register her.
“What are you doing sister? Doesn’t this place get any visitors?” I asked the woman gently.
It was my question that brought her alive to our presence. She smiled and walked towards me, and offered her greetings.
“Usually no one comes up here during this time of the day. It is only in the evenings that some people come over from the city for a picnic.” She talked slowly while avoiding eye contact. By this time, Ayaansh had also joined us.
“I get good cattle hay during this season.” The woman remarked while pointing towards the bundle of weeds that she had accumulated. From then on, Ayaansh took over the conversation.
“Do you use that for your own cattle?”
“No, I sell it. On a good day it fetches me a hundred and fifty”
“What else do you do for a living?”
“I sell lime water to visitors.” She smiled at me brightly, her eyes reflecting the pride that only true hard-work engenders.
A few minutes later we were down the staircase, back at the entrance of the fortification. Surabhi, the weed collector woman (as I mentally labelled her), had accompanied us. It was then that we saw a small wooden cart, kept beneath the shelter of a tree. It was the woman’s lime water factory. She beckoned, and five minutes later we found ourselves savoring refreshing lime water, served to us in plastic cups.
“Where do you live, Surabhi?”
Something about that woman was alluring. Maybe it was the contented smile that adorned her face as she spoke to us. Or maybe it was the enthusiasm with which she was telling us her story.
“Our family has lived here since generations. Our village is just about eight kilometers from here, down the hill on the other side.”
“Don’t tell me you walk up that much distance daily?” I was stricken by the image of her huffing and puffing all the way up the hill, to sell a handful of lime waters to the odd tourist who cared to visit the fort.
“It is no big deal madam. I also carry this can of water and some ice with me. The lemons and spices, of course, have no weight.” She started to laugh, looking at my astonished expression.
Ayaansh was looking at me curiously, and when I turned to face him, he walked away to click some more pictures of the temple inside the fort.
“Madam, do you work in the city?” Surabhi had warmed up enough to finally ask her first question. I nodded.
“Your work would be very different from our kind of work. Am I right madam?” She handed me another cup of lime water, as she wiped the sweat off her face using a beaten down piece of cloth. I handed her one of my wet swipes.
“It smells nice.” She breathed in the aroma of that factory manufactured wet handkerchief.
“My work is very different. Yes, you are right.”
“My son works in the city too. He is employed with the railway department. He cleared an exam for it. The exam must have been very tough, isn’t it madam?” She was beaming proudly, reveling in her son’s accomplishment.
“Absolutely, I am sure thousands must have written the exam, and only a handful would have been selected.”
She nodded, as I sipped my third cup of lime water.
“Tell me one thing Surabhi. Your son must be earning well. And you say that your husband has a shop in the town nearby. Then what is the need for you to work?”
She looked at me for a second, as if surprised that I had even felt the need to ask this question.
“I love my work madam. This is what my mother used to do. I used to accompany her here every day, as a child. And this fort, with the temple inside, is like home.”
“There is a temple inside? I missed it.”
“But I didn’t” Ayaansh came up from behind me and showed a picture of the temple that he had taken. It was a small dilapidated structure, with a saffron flag at the top.
“We have to leave now, Aashirya.” Ayaansh said, while looking at his watch.
I nodded, while taking out a hundred rupee note from my pocket. I handed it to Surabhi, smiled, and started to walk back towards our car.
“Madam, fifty rupees for the five cups.” Surabhi handed back the change, smiling brightly at me.
“It was nice talking to you madam. It makes me happy to meet great women like you.”
I wanted to tell her that there was nothing extraordinary about me. I was just another career woman. And, it had finally struck me, that so was she. Only that our jobs were different.
On our way back, as I gazed outside and consumed the country-side, I could finally spot the people Ayaansh had pointed out on our way towards the fort. They were everywhere- in the fields, along the small rivulets watering the wastelands, on the distant hills, under the occasional huge tree, in the roadside shacks. They were all there- doing their jobs, earning their bread, and taking care of their families.
Although I did not click any pictures of my own, the images of our visit to the fort stayed with me for some time, after we returned to our regular lives in the city. Each time I start to feel too good about myself, Surabhi’s smiling face appears in front of my eyes, helping me to stay humble. Post our visit, I also found a reason for visiting old historical monuments, much to the delight of Ayaansh. I now visit them, not just because of the history they tell, but because of the stories that they very often reveal. Stories, not of kings and dynasties and Gods, but of people like us out there who we so often tend to neglect. People, who work as hard as we do in our glass-walled corporate chambers, if not harder. And thus I see historical monuments and their environs, where the two stark worlds generally tend to meet, as nothing but else but as confluences.
**