Deep Ashaon Ka
Author - Madan Lall Manchanda
Publisher - Blue Rose, Rs 210
Madan Lall Manchanda’s short stories were written mostly for the readers of an earlier generation, have the idiom of the period of the magazines that published them
It is about that year when it rained so heavy that streams flowed turned rivers and rivers into lakes. The water rose up to the edges of houses and trees trunks were totally submerged in water. In the pounding rain storm leaves of the twigs had fallen and the strong shower of rain water had completely rid washed the black colour of the crows that they looked like lovely white pigeons.
All the inhabitants of the valley were focused to leave their homes and take refuge in the nearby hills. Fortunately in those days an old friend of dad had invited us to his daughter’s wedding and so we reached Simla. Rain was also wreaking havoc here and leaping down the mountain slops like water spring.
In wedding buzz we had forgotten everything that what a storm raged in the outside world. I was somewhat wonder struck to see golden bright spangled dresses, and glittering ornaments. Among the countless gifts given in the dowry, I had a great liking for a time piece which was of a lemon size an extremely shining watch, which our host had purchased and brought from Switzerland for her darling daughter.
Among the viewers of the dowry, it attracted first attention of one and all. And Aunty Tabassum, time and again repeatedly and by twisting the key Alarm of this ‘Jaltrang’ sound like sounding time piece, described the defining characteristic of the unique watch. I was exceedingly captivated by this watch. I turned around many a times and came to see this lovely piece, again and again.
How would this watch look like placed near my head pillow. And how will it help to awaken me every morning with its heart captivating melodious voice. It created a beautiful painting picture on canvas of my colourful imagination. No sooner Aunty Tabassum was led away hither or Thither, that I at once gave my thought out plot a practical shape and by seizing it kept it protected in the stitched upper flop of my Salwar. And, after sometime, when Aunty Tabassum came back in the room, and finding the watch missing started looking around in great discomfort. She called little Hazra
“Where is the watch?”
“Watch?” Hazara was taken aback with surprise
Aunty ‘Tabassum’ called ‘Chunnu’,’Munnu’, ‘Shammi’ and ‘Aslam’ turn by turn but all expressed their ignorance.
Slowly and slowly, all the guests gathered in the room. Aunty Tabassum wanted to avert, but on the guest’s emphasis, she had to tell about the disappearance of the watch.
All began to look at doubting each other. And were with troubled hearts that how Aunty Tabassum and other members of the host family would think about them. Every guest was worried at heart and on the other hand hosts too were ashamed.
I looked around, whether the people were not looking at me. On being completely assured, I began to walk slowly and to satisfy myself personally, once coughed also for self satisfaction. At once it occurred to me as if the stitched bottom flaps of my Salwar were a bit raised up from my feet. I sat down nervously.
“Bi Razia, do you know something/” Emerged an unfamiliar voice.
“Not so.” I answered back somewhat worried “Aji, why do you ask Razia ‘poor’ Aunty Tabassum expressed her full confidence in my person in keeping with the delicate relationship between guest and host.
“Razia Beta! Who was the other child in the room besides you and Hazra?”
Then the same voice followed me once again. I got nervous and looked around. I could found no answer to make.
“Our Razia is a good daughter.” My mother announced my innocence in the assembled lot. I felt somewhat revived up. But the very next moment the same alarm screamed up from the flaps of my Salwar in choked up voice. I trembled.
All eyes rose up towards me. My Mummy’s eyes were aflame issuing sparks. Outside, there was heavy down pour. But I was craving for a drop of water to drown and sink myself deep down and was peeping right and left. Crows sitting on the terrace in front of the window appeared ‘White’ before my eyes. More than their black coloured feathers was my darker deed.
Deep Ashaon Ka written by Madan Lall Manchanda is published by Blue Rose