He got up early,and finished his morning ablutions.Today was the big day—the day of his rendezvous. He visited the temple near his home,and offered prayers to all the dieties.He returned home and had a light breakfast.This had been his daily routine in the last six months,since his wife Prabha had died.
Prabha’s death from cancer had been a painful phase in their otherwise blissful married lives.Since he was well-placed financially,her illness did not take a financial toll on him. But physically for her, and emotionally for both of them, it had been unnerving and exhausting. He had seen the naked dance of death at close quarters,in his own home,as her life ebbed away.He had become a recluse from friends and relatives during the period.The only time he stepped out was to take his wife to the hospital for her chemotherapy sessions.Once the doctors had declared her terminal,and her condition warranted only palliative care,these visits too had gradually tapered off.
His son had come over from Silicon valley abroad for a few days,to spend quality time with his ailing mother,and had on her demise,left immediately,after performing his mother’s last rites.Of course,his son had asked him to accompany him to the States,and settle down there with him,but he had politely declined.In his jet-setting days,he had done his share of globe-trotting,and realised early where his preferences and loyalties lay -that given a choice,it would always be India,for him,first and last.
He had no regrets.He had led a full life.As a corporate honcho for a major industrial conglomerate,he had earned both name and fame. He had also,through lucrative compensation packages,and stock options built up a substantial financial nest egg. But Prabha’s illness had forced him to opt for an early retirement.
He had always thought about death in a clinical manner. After all,had not the scriptures opined that this world was not our permanent abode,and we were all only tenants on this earth.Our bodies were only trustees for the soul,which transited between birth, death,and rebirth.He had lost both his parents at a very young age in an accident,and suffered,as a result thereof.It was a maternal uncle,who had brought him up. All that was now a haze.But Prabha’s death shook him,like nothing else did.She was so soft and considerate.And religious.Then why did she have to suffer so much? If only good things happened to good people,hers certainly was a bad example of that maxim.May be,as an astrologer whom he consulted during her illness had told him, it was her karmic carryover account that was playing spoilsport!
He had made his will some time back.Half of his wealth,he had bequeathed to various charities,and the rest he bequeathed to his son.Not that it would matter to his son,who was a top venture capitalist in Silicon Valley.
Should he write a note,he wondered. It always helped, in case of inquests and post-mortems. He also owed it to his son.He sat down and wrote a note.He came out his bungalow,and handed over the keys of his house to the servant,in his friend-cum- neighbour’s house.Good that his friend was not at home.Less questions to answer now,and later on.
He would not take his car today. He hailed a cab, got in,and commuted till he reached the now abandoned unmanned level crossing six kilometres away from the city railway station. He got down, paid the cabbie, and started walking towards the railway tracks.He looked at his watch.It was 11.30 AM.The train was scheduled to pass this way,anytime now.Two days back,he had come to this deserted stretch,and extrapolated the time for the superfast to reach here,almost,he thought wryly,like the dry runs he used to conduct on his office projects,in his working days.
He heard the siren of the train,in the distance. Now he could see its silhouette closing in.The train was on time.He stepped forward onto the centre of the railway tracks,and moved ahead with renewed energy in the direction of the train.He was on schedule for his rendezvous.Prabha must be waiting for him up there.
The train came hurtling along,rattling on the railway tracks.In a daze,he distinctly felt two soft hands pulling him away with force from its speeding path.The train sped by.Slowly,regaining his balance,he turned around.There was no one nearby.Who could it be,he wondered.Slowly,realisation dawned,and he smiled. How could he forget the feel of those hands? He could feel her presence all around him.She still loved and cared for him.Maybe the time was not opportune,for the rendezvous.Maybe unknown even to himself,but known only to the the Higher Divine powers,that preside over our destinies,there was perhaps an unfinished agenda for him on this earth and…….in this life .What that agenda would be,maybe only time would tell .
Miracles never cease,he reflected.Life had changed for him dramatically during those nanoseconds,on the railway tracks,after having hung by a thread.He headed homeward briskly,a changed man.Tomorrow will be another day,he soliloquised,a day he would make a new beginning! The noon sun seemed to shine a little bit brighter,almost as if in agreement.And a gentle cool breeze from somewhere patted his cheeks encouragingly,as Prabha would also have,had she been around.
© 2014 pam53
