Waiting

                                                                                     Vicky Grut

 

 

Yesterday, a man collapsed outside the cake shop, Lewis's mother said. She’d gone into town to buy some chocolate éclairs so she saw it with her own eyes. At first she only noticed the crowd on the pavement outside. Then she noticed that there was this man in the middle of it, sort of leaning up against the wall of the cake shop and making a funny noise, sort of ‘huuuu! huuuu!' his mother said, 'as if he couldn't really get his breath.'

She acted it well, Lewis thought; he could imagine it.

He watched her wipe the drips from the aluminium surface around the sink. Her hands were shiny, slightly swollen. She'd be sixty-eight at her next birthday but she had the hands of a child, which was fitting in a way, Lewis thought, because beneath the elderly exterior his mother had the spirit of a nine year old girl — easily delighted, easily dismayed.

            She hung the cloth back over the tap, patted it, and then stopped as if something had just occurred to her. 'Do you know the cake shop, I mean?'

            He nodded.

            The one on the Crosby Street , she said, the one next to the shop where they used to buy his school shoes when he was a child. Lewis nodded again, making an extra effort to be patient.

            'Yes.'

            “Of course,” she said, “that shoe shop was closed down in 1976 when old Mr Marks died. She knew the year because it was the time of that terrible heat wave and she remembered talking to Mrs Marks about the way her husband suffered in the hospital with the heat rashes and chafing, and such. After he died the place became a hardware shop, and now of course it was boarded up. But the cake shop was still there. As she spoke, he noticed that she got out the cups and plates and warmed the teapot with slow careful movements. She was democratic with her attention, Lewis thought: hiccoughs or cancer, earthquakes, or sunny afternoons, small dogs passing on the street — all would share equal consideration from her. He watched her put the tea bags into the pot. She stopped and rested for a moment, her hands at her waist.

            The first owners of the cake shop, she said, had moved away, sometime between 1973 and 1974. Very nice people. Their daughter had been in Lewis's class in infant school. Did he remember? She lifted the kettle and began to pour the hot water. 'A lovely little girl she was, with blue, blue eyes, and always so beautifully dressed. No?' She paused, and stood there with the kettle trailing steam above the pot. '

Lorraine , her name was. I always think that's such a pretty name. Lorraine .'

            'I don't remember.'

            His mother turned to him with an expression of surprise. 'No?' She waited for a moment as if she hoped he would find himself mistaken, then returned to the teapot. 'It's run by a Greek couple now. But they do very nice cakes.'

            Lewis lowered his head.

Everyone kept telling him how well she was coping with herself. She herself would shake her head and say: 'What else is there? You've got to keep on, haven't you?' She’s doing better than me, Lewis thought. When he was up in London he kept busy with the routines of his life, but when he came home like this and saw his father's coat hanging in the hall, his keys on the nail by the door, it was as if the thin, healing skin was ripped away and he found himself back at the beginning of it all. Even now, he kept expecting to hear his father's voice laughing out from some other room — he'd only been in the garden, silly; he'd just popped out to the shops, hadn't he! Lewis wanted to put his head down on the table and howl like a dog but it wouldn't be fair. He must do his best not to drag his mother back to his own beginner-level grief.

            'You were telling me about going to buy the cakes. What happened?'

            'Oh, yes. What a business!'

            She told him how she'd had to literally push her way through the crowd to get into the shop. She tried to get a look at the man leaning against the wall but she could only just about see the top of his head. He was still making quite a lot of noise at that point. He sounded quite bad.

            Inside the shop there was a shocking queue. They had people lined up all along the walls. She very nearly gave up at that point, except that she'd set her heart on getting some éclairs to have for tea when Beryl Andrews came that afternoon, and she had already mentioned the idea to Beryl, so she felt obliged to wait.

It took ages. 'But you know how it is,' she said, 'once you've waited a while it seems a waste not to keep on waiting, even if you can see it's going to be as long again.'

            She had more or less got to the middle of the queue when someone came into the shop to ask if they could ring and ask about the ambulance again because it was taking too long and the man was really in a bad way, so one of the girls stopped serving and went to phone, which added to the wait — not that anybody minded, of course.

            When her turn came at last, his mother said, the assistant was really marvellous, who allowed her to choose the two biggest éclairs, and instead just putting them in a bag the girl laid them out nicely in a proper box with paper doilies at the bottom. It was typical of his mother to be pleased by little things like this, Lewis thought. It was a question of the way you presented things to her. You couldn't hurry or be too fierce. You had to make her see that there was nothing to be afraid of, nothing too complicated for her to understand. His father had been so good at that. The way she was managing now was a credit to the way he had prepared her for being alone.

            Lewis watched her pour the tea and click a single Sweetex into her mug.

            By the time she came out of the shop, she said, the man was lying on the pavement. In fact, she had to step over his legs. She couldn't really see his face because someone was giving him the kiss of life: sort of pinching his nose and breathing into his mouth. 'They had exactly the same thing in Casualty the other night. Did you see it?'

            'No.'

            'I'd never be able to manage anything like that,' she shook her head. 'They do courses on it don't they? I expect the fellow who was doing it had been on a course.'

            'Perhaps.'

            She'd stopped to watch for a bit because she wasn't really in any great hurry. She turned to a woman standing nearby and asked, 'Is that Ken Rogers from Tenby Street ?' But the other woman said, 'No. That's my husband.'

            Beryl Andrews came to tea later in the afternoon and they'd enjoyed the éclairs, except that Beryl's turned out not to have any cream inside it, which was a bit of a shock. Lewis's mother had, after some encouragement from Beryl, decided to go back to the cake shop about it She kept a bit of Beryl's éclair to show them and they were very good (fair play), there was no quibbling. They apologised very sincerely, and insisted on giving her another boxful free of charge. So in the end she’d had four for the price of two –'Compliments of the chef!' She liked to repeat little phrases like this, often using them in slightly the wrong context. 'Compliments of the chef!'

            She went over and got a plain white cake box from the larder. 'I hope you're hungry!' She lifted the lid with a girlish hand and showed him two pastries gleaming in their lacy bed. Afterwards she would smooth out any of the doilies that weren't too greasy, he thought, maybe even keep the box. She saved most things: cards, letters, ribbons, stamps, pieces of lace, anything shiny. She still had all his father's clothes upstairs, even the pyjamas he'd worn in the hospital. Lewis had seen her touch the coat in the hall sometimes as she passed by; it still had some of his father's smell.

            'What happened to that man then?' Lewis picked out one of the pastries and bit into the slab of chocolate topping, feeling it crack like a paving stone under his teeth.

            'The man?' his mother leaned in to sniff the flowers he'd brought her. She had a pleasant but slightly vacant expression on her face. 'The man in front of the cake shop?'

            'Who else?'

            She put out a hand and fingered the edge of a pink flower, smiling with transparent pleasure. 'Alstrumeria,’ she murmured. 'They look so delicate but they last forever.’ So easy to please, Lewis thought. His father had been so much easier to love.

‘Oh! I almost forgot! Did I show you the doll I won in the cancer ward raffle?'

            Lewis took a savage bite of the pastry and an excess of cream came churning out at the sides of his mouth. 'You were going to tell me about that man,' he muttered.

            His mother was rummaging about in one of the cupboards. 'Oh,' she said vaguely, 'I heard the ambulance took too long in the end, what with all the traffic in Morton Street . There was nothing they could do by the time they got there. Very sad.'

            She turned around holding a ridiculous stuffed doll with corn-yellow plaits and blanket-stitched lips. 'But what do you think of that?!' She was laughing. 'I couldn't believe it when they rang. I never usually win anything!'

 

 

 

 

A Visit to South India               

                                                     T.K.Bhattacharya

 

 

 

Generally, a man’s life sails more or less smoothly in his middle age.  If you try to find out the reason, you will see that at that time he is settled in working life, conjugal life and even in friend circle life. No bohemianism exists.  Maturity plays a dominant part in every decision and advice.

 

 In such a time I planned to visit places of southern India where temples of fame are part of life in that region.

 

I reached Chennai station by Coromandal Express and put up myself in YWCA Guest House.  This is my second visit to Chennai.  First one was in about five years back when we were a group of 19 heads comprising friends and families including children.  In that visit we saw so many places but in none of it I could involve myself.  That was a really hectic tour but full of fun and enjoyment. So this time I decided to apply my leisure to see deep.

 

I was in Chennai for three nights and fixed a car for my travel to the places of southern India up to Kanyakumari.  The sojourn was for about 14 days.  On purpose I did not make travel programme.  On the way whatever place I would like I shall visit.

 

On the second day when I was having my dinner in YWCA dinning hall, I saw a tall and graceful looking lady in my front table having her dinner.  Her height will be about 5 feet 8 inches, age 35 years and appeared to be of European origin.  She was in her frocks.

 

Next morning I proceeded to see Mahabalipuram near about 20 kilometres away from Chennai.  Mahabalipuram is famous for the remnants of temples bulk of which has been eaten up by the sea.  There I noticed the lady whom I saw last night in YWCA Guest House.  When we were face to face in the pathway inside the temple complex, she threw a charming smile to me and became attentive to the stone works of the temples.  I did not get a chance to reciprocate.  These temples were erected few hundred years back and there was no idol for worship.

 

In the evening when I entered the dinning room I saw her sitting in a corner table.  On seeing me she waived me saying hi.  On my response, she offered me her table.  I took the chair opposite to her.  During conversation, though she speaks little, it came that she is from Italy

living very close to Florence which is famous for the leaning tower –

Pisa .   

 

She is unmarried and doing freelance reporting job mainly on ancient statues and temples throughout the world.  This time she is in India

and already covered Puri, Bhubneswar and Konark.  When she learnt that I am on a pleasure trip, she became interested as I could explain the history to her for her appropriate coverage.  As she is Italian, her English was not so fluent but communication between us did not pose a major problem.  Her hair is black and complexion is similar to north Indian girls.  Her name is Lida.

 

I told her tomorrow morning I would be leaving for Tirumala to see Tirupati Venkateswara temple and remain there for two nights.  Since Tirupati was in her list, she was delighted and expressed that probably she would meet me there in the afternoon.

 

It took five hours for me to reach Tirumala (150 Kms).  Reaching there I got an accommodation in one of the temple guest houses close to the temple.  I was allotted a single-room flat on the ground floor.  From the room I could see the gorge down below completely green.  Though it was a flat, maintenance was not at all remarkable.  After having the lunch in the temple complex dinning room I came out .

4.30 P.M.

      I decided to see the temple inside.  To enter the temple to see the deity is a colossal task.  After obtaining entry ticket on payment of fees, I had to stand in the queue where already few thousand people were waiting before me.  Although it took two and half hours for me to have glance of the deity for about half a minute only, I must say management of the queue is superb.  Plenty of sitting places are there and all the time TV programmes are on different subjects.  TV sets are fixed in such a way that you could see it from any point.  During the two and half hours’ period I did not feel bored.  On seeing the deity I could not feel anything special as I was not allowed to give any time to concentrate.  The priests were more eager to push us out to let others come forward.  People say that if one prays for anything to this deity, the wish will definitely be fulfilled.  However, since I did not go there to pray for anything, I had no chance to taste the fulfillment.  Here, I have missed to say that the deity is of Lord Narayana much more known as Lord Venkateswara.  When I was coming out, I saw quite a few number of beggars were begging next to the temple wall.  It came to my mind, alas! Why these beggars do not pray to the God for their betterment to live a respectable life?

 

Outside the temple the surroundings demand appreciation.  The entire temple complex is situated on a plateau.  The temple has been constructed a few steps down the plateau and other infrastructures are located on the plateau.  When the approaching road reaches the plateau, first thing you will notice a huge marble statue depicting the famous incident of the Mahabharata when Lord Krishna was explaining to Arjuna the reason for his fighting against the evil power for the good of mankind.  The uttering of Lord Krishna are known as the Gita.  The artistic creation of the statue is beyond description.  The life-size statue shows that Arjuna is sitting on the chariot, horses pulling the chariot in full vigour and Lord Krishna is giving the sermons to Arjuna while piloting the chariot.  The lay out of the  garden and pathways are superbly maintained.  I was so much involved in the serenity of the atmosphere that I had no sense of time.  Suddenly, it came to my mind that Lida was supposed to meet me in the afternoon somewhere here.

 

 Now it is 6.30 P.M. and darkness has already crept in.  I went to the administrative office and enquired whether any person was looking for me.  Since the answer was no, I asked whether any lady named Lida has booked any accommodation. The reply was again no. 

I had nothing to do so I strayed along leisurely.  The place was full of pilgrims, most of whom arrived in the morning and now returning in lots.  I understand that within an hour’s time, the place will be empty. Only about a hundred people will be staying in the guest houses.  Of course, the shop owners and helpers as well as the temple staff will stay, the number of whom will be not less than a thousand.

 

I entered a garden, upkeep of which, I must say, leaves no complain.  I took a seat in a bench.  The sky is clear and I can see the stars brightly.  It is the month of September.  Slowly my mind started hovering on celestial subjects, creation of the universe, about gods and many more related matters.   Whenever I think about creation of the universe and the planet in which we belong, I become puzzled.  Whatever the researchers on the subject say, that is their study and research.  It is not possible for the common people to understand.  So they are happy with the answer that God has created these.

 

At 9 P.M. I finished my dinner in the dinning hall managed by the temple administration.  All are tasteful vegetarian dishes to my liking.

 

Next morning after breakfast I spent a good time in the publication room and went through the books to understand the history of the Lord Venkateswara Temple .  However, all the time I was alert to see Lida.  But for any reason Lida did not arrive.  In the afternoon I again went to the temple.  Though I did not enter the temple, I was enthusiastic to observe the bustling activities of the pilgrims in the entrance and near about and the efficient management of the crowd to put them in the queue.  It is really appreciable.  I shall not deny, may be that my subconscious mind pushed me there in case I could discover Lida in the entrance.

 

 

 

 

I left for Madurai next morning.  To reach Madurai I understood it would take minimum twelve hours time.  I planned to stay at Madurai

for two nights and leave for Rameswaram day after to-morrow morning.  In Madurai I shall visit only

Meenakshi Temple tomorrow.  I got accommodation in the Tamil Nadu Tourist Lodge.  After reaching Madurai

in the evening I took a stroll in the city.  Since the city has been developed around the temple complex, the surroundings were not picturesque.  Roads are not broad and everywhere you will find shops.  But the people are friendly.

 

Next day I entered the temple complex.  It is huge. Starting from the gates to compound, ponds, temple itself all are huge. It took me two hours to see the complex a little bit meticulously.

 

In the night I planned to visit Kanyakumari (170 Kms) first and then Rameswaram, though Kanyakumari is the last point of the Indian sub-continent.  In Kanyakumari, I could not get any good accommodation.  So I decided to leave the place as early as possible.  The temple area is congested.  Kanyakumari is situated at the confluence of three seas,

the Bay of Bengal , the Indian Ocean

and the Arabian Sea .  When I stood near the point, a thrilling sensation swept my body. I am now standing at the end tip of India . There is no mainland beyond this point. But about a quarter kilometre south there is a rocky island on the Indian Ocean , whereon a beautiful large temple has been erected, which is known as Swami Vivekananda Rock.  Inside the temple there is a big standing statue of Swami Vivekananda who reached the rock by swimming.  The journey to the rock by small steamers is really a frightful experience.  The sea is very rough there.

 

In my childhood days I used to hear from my maternal grandmother many a times about the deity Kanyakumari and the end tip of India .  The thrilling imagination engulfed my mind so much that one night I dreamt that I went to Kanyakumari.  It was evening time and I could see the end tip of India taking a half round shape.  There were only a few people and the statue of Kanyakumari was made of white stone in a sitting position on the floor wearing a sari.  There was a big diamond on her forehead which was emitting bright light.  Next morning I told about the dream to my grandma and I made a mind to visit Kanyakumari to see whether the place is actually like that, when I shall grow up.

 

Now I am here to see the deity and shape of the tip of India .  Alas! In both the counts I was dismayed.  First, the tip is not like my imagination.  It is very wide place.  So standing on the land nobody can feel the curve.  Secondly, due to misguidance by the temple staff, I could not see the deity as the timing was over when I rechead the temple.  However, I learnt that though the deity is sari-clad, it is in a standing position and the diamond is in her nose ring.                                                             

 

The image of Kanyakumari was made based on the myth that Goddess Durga, when she was a virgin, made arrangements to worship Lord Shiva there to get married with him but Lord Shiva did not turn up.  Word ‘Kanyakumari’ means a virgin.

 

Returning to the hotel I packed up and asked the driver to proceed to Rameswaram on the way back.

 

There is no road direct to Rameswaram temple, 320 Kms up.  There is a place called Mandapam where I had to park the car and board a train to reach Rameswaram. From the mainland the narrow-gauge train line is the only means to connect

Rameswaram Temple

site.  The train line has been constructed on the pillars over a channel of the Indian Ocean

stretching about more than a kilometre.  The train moved very cautiously and took a good time to reach.  Through the window I could see the rocky bottom of the channel.  Ocean was not so deep and the water was clear.  The name of the channel is Pamban Channel. 

 

Rameswaram is a small island.  A beautiful large temple is there made of granite stone.  The immaculate stone works on the pillars, walls and even on the ceilings are worth seeing.  I could get an accommodation in the Tamil Nadu Tourist Lodge which appeared to be new.   

 

After checking in, I came out to see the sea which is close to the Lodge.  Suddenly, I heard a female voice calling hey! hey!  As I looked at the right side I saw Lida is running towards me and within a few seconds she hugged me closely as if she could find out the person she was searching.  In excitement she told so many things at a stretch that I had no chance to ask about her not arriving at Tirumala.  The gist is, in Chennai before her departure time, she fell sick and it took two full days to recover.  As a result, see could not meet me at Tirumala for which she begged excuses time and again.  Thereafter she cut short her itinerary and directly came to Rameswaram yesterday on the basis of my original plan that I will visit Rameswaram first and then Kanyakumari. My change of plan did upset her yesterday when she did not find me here.  She was wearing a complete Indian dress – salwar and kameez and was looking like a north Indian girl. The dress made her more beautiful.

 

I asked her to calm down and offered her to seat in the lounge for a chat.  She disagreed but persuaded me to sit on the ground under a tree near the sea.  Now it is 5 o’clock

in the afternoon                                                          and the sun has become soft.  Abruptly, she asked, ‘Does my face not look honest?’  I replied, ‘Of course, you do possess an honest face’.  She smiled.                                                               

 

Lida was much interested to know about Rameswaram temple.  I explained, legends say that Lord Rama of Indian epic Ramayana entered Srilanka with his force from this point constructing a stone pathway through the sea to fight with Ravana, king of Srilanka, to rescue Sita, wife of Lord Rama, whom Ravana kidnapped.  After winning the battle and rescuing Sita, he took rest here and worshipped God Shiva.  In memory of this incident, different rulers constructed this temple gradually during 12^th to 14^th centuries.  Its corridor is longest in

India , about 200 feet in length.  The ornate corridor and towers are marvellous.  The temple complex occupies major part of the island.

 

Lida was so attentive that she did not put up any question.  At the end she uttered softly, ‘nice, you can speak nicely, Mr……?’  We discovered that though I know her name, she did not have any opportunity to know my name.  I suggested her to call me ‘TK’.

 

Meantime, darkness has set in and I requested Lida to have a cup of tea.  We entered the restaurant and took a corner table.  The surroundings were so calm that we did not speak for some time.  Very softly Lida started, ‘TK do you think that peoples’ wishes are fulfilled if they pray to the idols?’  ‘Lida, they pray not to the idols but to the God.  Praying to the God through the idols has a positive effect to the prayers.  They think as if they are talking to the God who is in front of them as an idol.  But I cannot vouch whether their wishes are fulfilled.  There is a division.  One group says their wishes have been fulfilled and another group says, no.  One of my friends did not get a child.  His wife went to Tirupati with my friend and prayed for a child.  It did not materialise.  I myself saw beggers in the Tirupati temple.  Am I to think that they do not pray to the Tirupati Lord to come out of the poverty?’

 

Lida said, ‘but there is a group who claims fulfillment.’  ‘Yes Lida’, I continued, ‘when a person suffers from a difficult disease, he goes to the doctor for treatment and at the same time prays to the god for cure.  If cured, it will be whose credit?  I know a patient like this, whose family gives credit to their guruji, not to the doctor.’  Lida was silent.  But I could realise that she could not come to any conclusion on her question which she raised.

 

I looked at Lida and said, ‘I shall tell you some interesting questions which a boy of 17 years of age raised.  He asked me, uncle, people say there is God in the heaven who regulates us from there, thinking for each of his creations.  If it is so, then he must have a brain.  What he eats?  Does he sleep?  When each person is destined to die, what about him?  What is the reason of his doing all these manoeuvres clandestinely?                                                               

 

I was unable to answer these questions, as these never came to my mind.  At this point Lida took leave from me as she was feeling tired.

 

Next morning when I was having breakfast in the restaurant, Lida entered and took a seat in my table.  She was charmed with the beauty of the place.  The sea, the vast temple, the stone works inside the temple everywhere, the disciplined stream of the pilgrims, all charmed her.  With a cup of coffee she was staring outside.  She was silent.  I marked she was in deep thoughts.  ‘What’s the matter Lida, anything wrong with you?’ I asked.  ‘TK, I am thinking about the questions, the boy raised.  These are really thought provoking, but at the same time can anybody deny the mystery of creation?  Look at the mechanism in the   body of human beings, animals, even flies, mosquitoes as also trees, everything.  Can it be told these are automatic?  Think about the system of creation. There must be male and female.  Even in the case of bearing fruits in the trees.  Unless the bees fertilise the pollen by carrying pollen in its body from another flower, fruits will not grow.  In case of tiniest insects, the question of uniting a male with a female remains.  The same rule applies to bigger animals and human beings. If you try to understand the working, you will be at a loss.  To continue the creation process, there has to be some motive, it cannot be simply mechanical or responsibility.  So system of biological attraction and feeling of pleasure entered into the picture.  Think about creation of offsprings inside the mother’s womb.  Two tiniest cells unite and in a particular time grows inside the womb where it develops the entire body mechanism, one for male and another for female.  How it can happen unless there is a faultless planning behind it?  Again, you see, to accommodate the newcomers in the planet, a system called ‘death’ has been introduced.  And….’

 

I cried, ‘stop Lida, stop please.  My brain is incapable of comprehending so many intricate matters.  I am perplexed, I am at a loss.  I admit I never analysed these as you have done.  I can simply say these are beyond human comprehensions’.  Lida appeared to be stunned with my excitement.  She said, ‘sorry TK, I am extremely sorry for putting you in such a grave subject’. 

 

Since I shall be leaving next morning, Lida wished to see the temple once more in the afternoon.  As my sojourn is now complete, I shall go straight to Chennai and from there to Calcutta

next day.  Lida’s programme is to go to Kanyakumari, then Madurai

and then Pondicherry and other places.

 

 

 

                                                               

 

We spent the entire evening in the temple.  Me answering the queries of Lida on the tale of Ramayana.  At the end Lida quietly held my left hand by her right hand and started walking.  Very tenderly she placed her cheek on the side of my upper arm and walked without a word through the corridor.  When we came out of the temple, I looked at Lida’s face and could see tears were rolling down her cheek.  ‘What happened Lida?’ I asked.  ‘Nothing’, she replied and said ‘I shall never forget you’ and kissed me softly.  She further said, ‘if I ever come to India , I will meet you.  Please take care of yourself.’  After these words she left for her room hurriedly.  That was the last time I saw her.  Next morning when I checked out, I could not see her.  May be she did it purposely.  I remembered, once she told that Italians are emotional.

 

I reached Mandapam by train and located the car.  When I was in the highway, I felt a heavy heart as if I lost my dearest one.  A deep desire to go back to Lida overtook me. 

I realised, it is a kind of love.  Love has many splendid colours.

 

 

 

 

 

Addendum

 

The story is based on my south

India

tour in the year 1985.  Now there are efforts from many corners to find out relation between the man and the maker. The book ‘Code Name God’ written by the eminent scientist, Mani Bhaumik, one of the pioneers of the laser technology, has dwelt on the existence of science from the very moment the entire space was started being created, every stage of which was scientific orders.

 

Presently, a group of scientists are busy to understand the resultant moments after the ‘Big Bang’ which, they believe, was the source of the creation of the whole universe.  To achieve this, a 27-kilometre tunnel has been dug under the earth in the border area of France and Switzerland .  The massive instruement under the earth is known as “Large Hadron Colliders (LHC)”.  The research will continue for more than 10 years.  But will all these give answer to the questions of the 17-year old boy and Lida?