(Usually we make incidents a part of our life and pass.
But sometimes they also make us to pause and muse.
And the way we look at them, our seemingly uniform experiences tend to be
unique and diverse.
Do you ever recall any of them?)
1
Universally, as we
know, childhood days are funny; but not without risk!
We used to
defecate in the untilled or after-crop fields next to our backyard in the
village. Toilet being a village misnomer, only open fields around served the
purpose of a pan, pit and soap everything.
Come monsoon we
siblings along with parents very keenly turned our extended backyards to
kitchen gardens – bushy, green and
beautiful with various local veggies. The bushy yards hid everything else in
them except a narrow trail that was left amid, to pass through.
One bright
morning, I, a nude rustic boy after defecation, was coming back through the
narrow trail for ablution near our backdoor. Something rather long like a rope
suddenly escaped my sight, close to my feet, from right to left. Things
happened in a flash before I could react or make anything out of it. I turned
my face to the left. What I saw only made me shrill and shiver!
Two large cobras,
twined together, at once held their hooded heads high enough under a sour
orange tree of our neighbour’s yard few feet away from me. Awestruck I could
not move further and saw that never-seen strange, dreadful and beautiful event.
My mother came
first to see what happened to me and others joined us later. Now I don’t
remember the mob reaction to the whole incident then. But the two had
disappeared after a while.
Double bites or
bites after bites wouldn’t have spared me to shrill or shiver had I put my feet
on those two wild reptiles!
2
It was when I did
not know swimming.
Village pond is
obviously a centre of perennial attraction for kids. Besides bathing, it is for
jumping, playing various water-games and swimming. But my father often took me
to our village pond with him to avoid any risk.
That day my father
was washing clothes on upper steps of the bathing ghat and I got down to the
lower ones to take my bath. I avoided the steps that mosses had made slippery. But, before
taking a dip, I was just slowly jumping in the water when my feet slipped from
the other step I chose to stand on and bathe. I could not touch the next lower
step which was deeper yet.
Symptoms of
sinking took hold of me! Frightened and helpless, I only flanged my limbs and
struggled to get to the step desperately. And luckily my feet touched the step;
I saved myself or was saved before having any idea of screaming for help
and escaped such an early doom!
Nobody around
happened to see me then – not even my father! I did not disclose the matter to
him not for the fear of punishment but for the grave concern he would have
expressed and how he must have stunned at the terminal disaster to his only
son, in spite of all his safety measures! Of course, a mild telling-off would
have followed with future cautions!
I cautioned
myself, I felt the dire need of swimming!
3
Interestingly,
French cut Pudducherry lanes meet at right angles each other. Almost every
square is open to four sides like the sacred Cross! Obviously, except for few
major squares all others’ traffic is left unguarded. You have to be careful
while you move through one.
However,
Pudducherry was Pondicherry of cycles and rickshaws by the time I speak about
here. Nobody in today’s jam-packed J. N. Road, M. G. Road, Mission Street,
Sea-beach etc bothered about a parking lot then! Motor bikes and cars had only
a solemn presence of affluence. Still back in time, imagine, what its picture
would have had!
Probably the
sleepy town turned to be meditative on coming of Sri Aurobindo!
Well, I happened
to be there in Sri Aurobindo Ashram for over a year which coincided with the
Mother’s centenary year 1977-78, a very eventful and interesting period.
A college
Intermediate, I didn’t know cycling yet! I used to walk wherever I went – to
the Shrine, to the Dining, to the Workplace, to the Playground for meditation
or movie, to the Theatre, to the Beach, to the market for milk, fruits and
veggies and to other nearby places of need.
The other day,
walking along a lane, I reached the square where I should cross the road and
turn to the right. But before I crossed, a speeding motor-car crossed too close
to me from left to right which left me all at sea. I escaped not any bolt from
the blue but of course clearly ‘The End’, entering by force before my ‘note’
concluded!
Dumbfounded, I
went on to the Shrine and bowed!
4
I could be
swimming this time; but in ponds where water was calm! It helped little to be
able to swim in currents and tides if one failed to upgrade the skill and learn
other tricks.
On doctor’s advice
I walked to the beach every morning and let the tides touch my feet. A whole
sea bath followed this in the noon. Though interesting, it was not free from
risk. I was extra careful before I got familiar to sea bath. However, I must
confess, I was only provisional, not a bold bather!
Practice is to
either rise above or dip below to let the tide pass to make you stay put. That
day a strong high wave came coiling its snakelike hood and instantly took hold
of me in its whirl. For a while I just turned to be like a bundle of rags in a
washing machine, and then swept away. Luckily I got stuck escaping a watery
grave again, before swirled by another tide!
No effort, no
swimming skill came to my rescue when the whirling tide gripped me! Simply, one
cannot try then! Shocked, I came out to
take a normal bath outside, to wash the salty and sultry sea-water.
This had happened
same time same place. Pondicherry sea-beach had no robust stone embankments
then like today. Bereft of any stretch, no novice like me can find a scope to
venture into the sea today and taste a risk!
Every time I hear
a watery grave death, memory runs back to my own incidents. One who meets a
watery grave knows for some time how helplessly he/she is going to die!
5
Fortunately, I had
learnt cycling well; of course only a year before I got a job!
My youngest grandfather
would be typically warning me about the consequences of not knowing cycling at
the age of 20. Cycling was basic, integral to life itself; not knowing it
amounted to illiteracy, he rued.
However, I
experienced a silver jubilee of cycling from 1982 to 2007. But, this happened
during those early days when I did not own a cycle. Obviously, the desire for
and joy of riding a cycle was always at its acme then!
That day I was
riding my collegue’s cycle to my workplace after mid-break on the connective
road stretching from Cuttack-Puri road to Sri Lingaraj Temple Loin’s Gate,
almost in-between which the ORTC workshop (my workplace) situated. Unexpected
happened just before few yards away from the workshop to the left.
I saw a truck from
opposite side was moving ahead dead slow. The space to my left to pass by was
sandy. Sand matters much while you ride! But I had less of its experience. I
thought I should speed up my pace to cross beyond the truck. But I was stuck,
and fell down to the right side, my head portion falling between the slowly
moving truck’s front and rear wheels!
Like sometimes
some ORTC buses, fortunately the private truck was not without a rear view
mirror! The driver could see what happened, immediately applied the brake and
looking back to me from his seat, told – you’re lucky; not only you, me too!
Saved!! Do not do such nuisance again; go.
I was at a loss,
uttered nothing. Quietly I entered into the office and tried to gather myself
in.
6
I was, for 21
years from 1990 to 2010, an ardent partaker of Chitta Bhai’s ‘Class’ on some of
Sri Aurobindo’s major works.
I cycled from Old
Town every Sunday and Thursday to Sardar Patel Hall (then SAIIE; now UCU’s
temporary campus) at Unit-II to attend him from 6 to 8 p.m. The spell of both Sri
Aurobindo’s works and how Chitta Bhai explained them didn’t allow me to miss the
Classes!
That evening, I was
crossing Bhubaneswar’s craziest square by feet – the double lined quadruple
Rajmahal traffic square. It is in-between Kalpana square to the East and opposite
to AG Square, Sishu Bhawan Square to the South and opposite to Master Canteen.
Unit-II is to its North-West, Ashok Nagar to North-East, Bapuji Nagar to
South-East and Unit-I to the South-West.
After the South-North-South
lanes from west to east and West-East lane from north to south, I was about to cross
its East-West lane – from Ashok Nagar to Bapuji Nagar. Obviously I looked to the
left and stepped on to cross the road finding the traffic was free. Just after
two steps, before I could make out anything at all, I suddenly got a horrible
bump from behind and fell down flat on my back, my head severely hitting to the
solid pitch.
The blow
was such I could not get up for a while and when got up, my head was
reeling in darkness. A doctor can well explain how one feels when the
head hits severely from backside and what are the risks. Saved
though, I feared I must have major injuries inside. Out of temper I
shouted at who had caused the accident, but to no avail!
He was a
nearby watch-shop’s salesman who took me to his owner for
reconciliation. The horrendous obese proprietor, instead of doing his
bit, turned aggressive towards me – the helplessly shouting
aggrieved. Unable to face him I returned like a guilty guy!
Sadly, a dear friend of ours fell down at his work place and died of brain haemorrhage after over a month of it, undetected.
7
A creative consultant in CYSD, I had to visit
places and facilitate children in creative writing.
While writing for
marks was thought to be everything, though proved counterproductive, creative
writing among school children in rural and tribal Odisha was only a far cry!
Rarer were the teachers or parents who inspired children to write an original
piece of imagination or experience!
Almost in 2006 I
was camping in CYSD’s Karanjia project office to meet and facilitate children
in various schools of Saharapada and Thakuramunda blocks. Children in majority
and even few teachers did not have any idea of a wall-magazine or school
periodical! But my passion to explore and extract children’s creative writing
potentials drove me that day to visit three high schools in a row, spending at
least two and half hours at each. So I had to skip my lunch, with some biscuits
only.
However I had my
dinner as usual, and then, after editing some children’s articles, I went to
bed in the guest house. I got up, as I normally did, around 2 a.m., switched on
the toilet bulb and passed urine, standing. Just after few seconds I felt
drained and felt like fire worms were flying before my eyes. Leaning to the
door frame I tried to hold it but in vain. I did not know anything then.
Quite a few
minutes passed, perhaps five to ten minutes – I had no idea. I got up with a
deep shrilling sound. Immediately I could not make out where I was, what had
happened to me. When I discovered myself inside the toilet with mild bleeding
pains on my lips and forehead I recalled I had fallen down unconscious, facing
to the toilet pan!
This was my first
experience to go unconscious. I could not understand what made me faint.
Confused about what to do at the hour, I did not feel like calling the
care-taker, or waking up the health facilitator who had slept there next to me.
I tried in vain to sleep till it was morning.
I consulted the
CYSD physician who prescribed medicines along with iron & folic acid
tablets saying it was due to weakness and restlessness. Then I could relate the
incident with my going without lunch the previous day.
What did I feel
when unconscious? Nothing – no pain, no thought, no dream! But I went unconscious before I was hit to
the pan, so the sound of pain was only due to come out when I recovered,
perhaps from the finish!
8
I was not quite
unfamiliar with this stealthy but deadly disease, yet...
Long ago when I
was in high school my father suffered from jaundice. Long ago after her
delivery my wife suffered from jaundice. Long ago, just during metric exam, my
daughter suffered from jaundice. All recovered, more by diet than
medication.
It was my turn
this time, while in CYSD at Karanjia!
People, perhaps in
that part of the district, are more non-veggies. Even their day breaks with
deep fried badas, samosas pakodas and
chops! Eateries make their dishes tastier with more & used oils, more
spices.
As the office mess
was made a mess by the mess holders I had to resort to the local restaurants.
Of course, more as a veggie, I was cautious about my kind of foods. But they
had too little of them. Possibly food-water contamination and worries made me
the virus’ prey.
Gradually I lost
my appetite. Urine got a unique colour! I felt quite all in, could not carry
out my regular assignments, and could not climb steps without help. I could not
even go through a newspaper. What happened to me!? A medicine sales boy took me
to a private medical college doctor in Bhubaneswar.
The young doctor
examined my body’s upper parts only and prescribed Deriphiline-M telling I was
suffering from asthma. He did not listen to me when I told I was not suffering
from asthma. I came back and took the medicine after dinner. Thanks to the
doctor, Deriphiline-M swept away my already shaky sleep that night!
Helpless, I met
another physician who, after examination, told me I was suffering from
jaundice. When I explained him about how the previous doctor prescribed, he
whispered – what are these doctors all about? Then he prescribed me three
months complete rest, a liver corrective and oil-spice free diet.
I confined myself
at home for about two months and took plenty of fruits especially lemon and
orange. Slowly, I regained my strength and confidence and resumed work; but oil
and spice dithered to befriend me as before!
Once, Chitta Bhai
expressed his concern about the risk of my suffering from jaundice then. With
example of someone succumbing to it he said, Jaundice gets fatal and difficult
to recover at later age.
And, whereto the doctor’s
diagnosis of asthma for jaundice would have taken me!
* * *
Time, place and
person may sometimes justify otherwise; but can all providential escapes be
refuted as accidents only? Should gratitude not have at least a small place to
reside in?
(Three more
episodes to be included.)
