Not a single cloud roofed the dark firmament. The black sky roared deafeningly of the tragic scenes from the past couple of hours and the stars flickered in sorrow. It was a strong chilly gust that tried to blow up the ignited flames. The ashes struggled in escaping to the other side of the river bank. Still the body inside the sweltering logs was blazing with all its might. The burning smell was too much to handle but he was compelled to stay there till the end.
From where he stood he saw the river dividing into two tributaries, each one making its own path by striking the river bank. As far as his vision allowed him, everything was covered in mist. He took deep breaths trying not to inhale the smell coming from the burning body. A breeze touched his dull face and his brain started recalling the past night. This appalling reminiscence made his eyes moisten. At the end of the antam sanskar, the mourners had started to depart, making their way back to their warm and cozy beds. They were leaving him and his father Hari Singh to stand alone in the cold weather stranded. Why would they stay? The smoldering corpse wasn't related to them.
When his cremated mother's cadaver had been reduced to ashes; he started to put the vestiges in the copper container. His father; who was standing opposite to him, helped him depositing the remains of his mother's body. When Sardar Hari Singh restored the last residue of his wife in the pot he whispered his wife's name Beena Kaur. He used to call her beenu when they were alone; away from the whole world. He told his son to immerse the ashes in the river. This was the first sign of weakness, Hari Singh the man with wisdom and power who was the mukhiya of his village could not keep his emotions together. He didn't shed a tear but his heart was bursting. He couldn't stand to be away from his beenu. A relation built on 23 years of struggle, strength and love. A bond that resembled concrete and vagueness was destroyed by merely a misunderstanding or was it one? He never gave a second thought to her and their past and proceeded to the Gurudwara to purify himself and his soul.
He started walking towards the end of the river, holding the most precious one in his hands, his mother. Mother a creature carved with tenderness, painted with affection and gifted with ardor. She knows you even before you know you yourself. She bestowed her blood and sweat to make her child stalwart and colossal enough to facade the realm but still you need her to hold you in the dark thundering night. You need her to show off your achievements and weep on your deprivation. A fall you had fabricated scars on her heart but still she buckles you up to conquer the unseen destiny. She makes you bold and intransigent; deep inside she knows you need her at every step of life. What is she? How can she love you more than yourself? What will happen when your only cling in life is no more?
She left him without even saying good bye. He couldn't find his inner peace. Everything was alright yesterday morning, she made him Aloo ka paratha for lunch. Right now he was cursing
himself for not finishing it and running away to play. Well he didn't know it then that he won't be able to taste them again ever. With regret in his heart and heavy legs he walked towards the end of the river
A single ray of sun illuminated the sky making the sight a little better. Through the heavy fog he saw something closing up towards him. A small boat perhaps but why would someone travel the river at this time? He squinted his eyes trying to inquire. He couldn't make much of it, it was too far to mark an affirmative decision. He paced up so that he could finish his work before the arrival of the strangers. As he marched up he saw that a man was rowing the boat and there were two woman accompanying him. He slowed his steps then because he saw the boat approaching the river bank really quickly. As the edge of the dinghy touched the land the passengers got out of it hurrying. They were Muslims, their outfits indicated. The man was fussing about someone, the elderly woman shoved a bag in his hands and handed a pile of books to the other woman. The threesome started walking towards east. He was glad they were going away, he could finally perform his work serenely. The weight was much to handle because the female with the books was left behind as the man and the elderly woman made their way. To keep up with them she started pacing; caught her feet in the sand and tripped. As a human gesture he ran towards her to help her pick up the books, unaware of his presence she was startled. He drew back trying not to offend her when suddenly a gush of wind blew up her veil. She was not a woman, she was a girl. Girl with a radiant face, a beauty worth capturing. He wanted to touch her face, to make it if it's real or not. May be she was a gorgeousness reveled from heaven above, a virgin maiden of paradise. A glimpse was all he could get of her because she gathered her things and went running towards her partners. A prevue splendor had led him to a state of bewilderment, as he stood facing the runaway girl unasked questions in his head, attar; a hint of natural perfume in his nostrils and a surprise in his rib cage that he had never known before.
