Finding The Lost Ground…

“Mamaji, how far is ‘Mehetwara’ now?”
Couldn’t dare to give the right answer, Mamaji wondered how to cater to the sought enlightenment; so, all that pensive man could come up with, in that tense moment, was one default acknowledgment: “Not too far, Deepu bete, we are nearly there.”
Mamaji answered in a reserved yet reassuring tone; knowing in his heart that the destination in a diagonally opposite direction could prove to be anything for Deepu, but certainly not home…

Curious as ever, the gullible ‘four years old’ kept on searching those passing milestones for that elusive sign (Mehetwada), trying hard to beat the factor of chance but getting defeated by the trickery of one grand design…

Unaware about what awaits, he kept on enjoying the headward journey towards his uncle’s place, where his father’s presence would be a matter of just concomitance… He was relishing all the perks of the window seat, you see, all emersed in the satisfying sense of lessening distance…

“There stands your papa! Let’s get off the bus now, Bete.”
Mamaji pointed his finger towards a handsome man all dressed up in police uniform (even though he was posted as SHO Mehetwada, but as a common Policeman he used to boast of his uniform as his second skin), waiving at them while having his sunglasses on. Deepu suddenly felt a lump in his throat seeing his Dad, and wanted to tell him how much he missed him during his stay in Bhopal, at Mamaji’s place. He jumped off the bus and ran for an embrace of deliverance.
“How are you Son? Please stop crying. I am here now!” His dad reassured him. And suddenly said, “let’s go!”
“Where Papa?” Deepu as usual was quick to pose a question. “To the School, for your admission.” His dad declares in a blunt tone as it can be. “For admission?!” Deepu gave Mamaji a surprised gaze… Then slowly the mist of disbelief started clearing off from the front of that backdrop, and there appears this school (at Raisen) where that treacherous bus had made the fraudulent drop…
He was in shock more than surprised, he was still too young for an adulterous game of adults to be surmised…

“Well, let’s go!” Deepu agreed, and quickly wore the coat of bravery and got ready for what was coming; he was content in having his father beside, as no place could mean now anything less than homecoming.

Interviews went well, teachers all impressed, Mamaji glued to the corner seat like a wet cat, dad is all happy, and Deepu was still busy taking turns at charming those many sisters at once…
It seemed like another definition of a happy day; it was like a cakewalk for someone who was born to perform such a role play…

“Huh! It was nice, wasn’t it, my dear one?” Dad enquired.
“Yes, papa, it was really nice. I like this school, and I loved talking to sisters, especially the principal. Hahaha… It was really really nice, papa.” Deepu acknowledged, and then places the real question: “Are we gonna stay here, in this town, from now on, papa?”
Ah, now comes his dad’s turn to bear the brunt of dropping the bomb! “No, son!” He exclaimed. “From now on you will have to live with your uncle(bade papa) and his family”
“What? Why? I can’t! I won’t!” Deepu started sobbing in disbelief. He cried and fought hard while feeling all the way the ground slipping away under his feet… Under the falling sky, the helplessness of a child became ever more discreet…
The grown-ups use strategies in order to communicate with tact, to handle this–all anticipated situation–his father had already borrowed a ready-made pact…
“OK. Don’t worry. You just have to stay here for one term—year-long, because of my transfers issues we can’t afford to waste your precious year of schooling, you see. Now be a good boy, and stop crying.”
Now, there his dad had rightly placed the bait, poor Deepu there had no chance to escape his all evident ‘Checkmate’!
His very first encounter with the state of dilemma (Dharm Sankat) was quite overpowering. Alas! The very start of the sequence of upcoming endless tests in life was unprecedented and quite towering.
” OK, you promised! Just one year, you said? Right?!” Deepu reminded him of the ‘promise’ made, and be sure himself amid the clouds of doubt; he was all set to embrace with grace his virgin whereabouts…
“Yes son, I promise!” His father asserted. “But!”
…but, he was also asked to study well as he was born adept, and with no choice, all requests of his father he was ought to accept.
He had to confide with the judgment which was already in effect, now all he’s left to hold on to was that promise–which was not meant to be kept!
… and thence commences what he was sent for, but in that storm of stifled emotions only the ‘debris of memories’ was to be washed ashore…
His very ‘formative days’ are about to be cursed with the fateful longing, and the very cause (education) of such trying separation was about to strip him off of everything he thought of as his belongings… well…

There enters the ‘A student’, but ‘following rules’ seems to have started suppressing his very basic instincts; nothing special he was to learn from his formal schooling, you see, which wasn’t equipped to quench his thirst to be unique and distinct…

Still, he manages to bring what his father mentioned in the order of peacekeeping, that poor lad didn’t have to work very hard though to deserve the expected reaping…

There comes this ‘Result’—worthy of being preserved for a keepsake; something to remind him of its replicability when more than usual is found to be at stake!
Having served the judgment, he turned to his father, for it was about time for the promise deliverance; sadly, all he could receive from his ‘busy dad’ was the freezing coldness of indifference!
Then what?…

Innocent as any nestling could be, a ‘broken promise’ pained him no lesser than a ‘broken heart’; his lost sense of honor in anything around, forced him to shut himself down instead of a restart…

In his next phase of development, he had grown some lazybones to help him adjust to the Slothful play despite being born a nimble Shark; he had developed a peculiar liking for that dreaded borderline that just cuts across the ‘33% Marks’!

Sadly, in his father’s psyche, that bond (the directive to excel at studies) had still remained intact; but that boy was left with nothing to look forward to, besides those breached terms of contract… anyways…

If, all is well that ends well, then what’s a point in the first place of getting the head start; if the upbringing of a ‘dream’ was meant to exhaust the vitality of existence, then surely there is no point in regretting when it falls apart… anyways…

His ‘drive to excel’ tried to die down quietly along with the falling pillars of support; he however kept on attempting to have the ‘shot of a lifetime, especially when everyone else hoped him to abort!

He always knew he will be declared ‘victorious’ in the end, for he has raised in him, the winner and a loser, altogether—all along; he just happened to choose what’s appropriate in those heartfelt moments, regardless if his rights were to be tagged as wrongs…

His ‘past’ has impacted him in abnormal ways, you see, as his psyche got chiseled & shaped by the same to the core; and in order to make amends with the foundation of his present character, he was bound to keep his wounds sore…

Having let down by his ‘close ones’, he ended up sensing endlessly just the plots against him–in & around, below & above; he never had to hold anything against anyone, you see, for he has always been foraging just for the definition of love❣️

His faith in himself got conditioned by his own experiences which acted in itself as an unforced force; his upbringing didn’t have to do with what his belief system would constitute today, as he never needed anyone to vouch for something—unheavenly endorsed!

It’s so easy to express oneself, you see, even a toddler can do it in more than one way; his purpose, however, was to source the pertinent ‘means’ so that the ‘voice of his heart’, one day, gets effectively conveyed…

With every word learned, unknowingly though, he was meant to silently grow, but his destiny was still contingent upon just one fact: ‘How far was he willing to go’!

To be a ‘storyteller’ as a hidden desire, is one thing, but to become the ‘square-shooter’ has been his destiny; all that is coming out as ‘pleasant words’ today is nothing but the outcome of an inherent inner mutiny!

With a ‘rewired brain’ he is now able to tell his story, especially when all the ‘semantic barriers’ are effectively salvaged; he has waited long enough to get his ‘natural swing’ back, regardless of carrying all along such disabling psychological baggage!

To nurture a ‘bolder self’ out, he took the beating till he no longer dreads the terrifying feeling of fear; he just had to make sure his every word ‘bleeds’ before becoming the ‘deadly mix of his sweat and tears.

He has, luckily, finally learned the ways of finding the harmonizing connect between words that happen to naturally come to him and echo; this ‘story’ has longed enough for the ‘right time’, you see, just to summarize almost everything he experienced from the get-go…

He always had a choice to pick the easy way out and escape his tumultuous surround, but he kept on choosing the hardest paths that could lead him to restore the lost ground!

It’s an attempt at weaving a ‘meaningful story’ together with the pieces of something broken apart and seemingly meaningless; and certainly not just to make a point that every experience of one’s life is just as important as it once seemed useless…

As long as he remembers what he once was, there will be a desire to direct him towards what he can be; his temporary ‘transient self’ amid those extremes, you see, will fail to identify with his ever-changing identity…
He still has an ever-changing identity!
But his name still is Praveen ku. Katiyar.
~praveen