Two Minds - 2

Lakshmaiyyah could not believe what he heard. Sometimes you don’t feel like trusting your senses and sometimes you feel that there weren’t any senses at all. He was experiencing what can be labeled as the juxtaposition of these two feelings. He could see a hundred dreams; rather unfinished tasks come crashing down in front of his eyes. His farm which was swept away by the waves could never be brought back to birth, his daughter would remain unmarried, maybe for the rest of her life, his house would fall in a few days, though it sustained the Tsunami, it would definitely not stand another scant rainfall.

“Stand aside man. The name’s not in the list. You don’t get the money.” The commissioner shouted, disturbing Lakshmaiyyah’s thoughts. Wiping those three odd tears which had been trickling down his eyes with his unclean brown handkerchief, he stepped aside.

“My wife died. Parvati Nair…” the next man in the line said. The commissioner got back to looking in his sheet. It was a job for him. Looking at the serpentine queue standing in front of their eyes, the commissioner’s two assistants were smiling sarcastically. Maybe they were thinking about how people came flocking to collect money for the death of someone so close to them and return home smiling after they get it.

“I used to think death makes people sad. Now I know, it gives them a reason to be happy.” one of them said as Parvati’s husband hugged his small daughter tight and rushed back home, relieved, after getting the compensation money.

“It makes them happy…” Lakshmaiyyah said, because, “It gives them another reason to live…”

The commissioner who had turned a deaf ear to the assistant’s comment looked at Lakshmaiyyah, zapped a bit. The assistants smiled and looked away.

“Death doesn’t have to breed death. It propels life to move on. My son’s death doesn’t make me happy. But this money does, rather, would have, because… it stops me from seeing my wife and daughter die…” he almost shouted and walked off, his white lungi shining whiter because of the sunrays. After looking him walk off, the commissioner cast an angry glance at the assistants, who promptly put their necks down in fake apology. Another silent moment later, he looked at the long queue ahead of him, smiled, and said, “Next”. “Queues have to move on. So does Life.” He thought to himself.

The sun had risen after long. The sea looks beautiful when the sunrays bounce back after clashing with the surging waves, creating a collage of vivid imagery of light and the seven colors. The pristine beach was shining a bit, the white sand and the blue water, the yellow gleaming rays of the sun, making it eloquent and silently beautiful. Lakshmaiyyah was sitting on the beach, with his legs folded and palms pressing against his forehead. Totally clueless about what has to be done next he could feel the lukewarm wave hit his weathered, cracked feet.

“You don’t exist” he looked at the sky. He was talking to the God he now knew didn’t exist. A starfish came near his feet, with another wave, spiraling him down memory lane.

“Appa, how many fish stay in the sea..?” little Rama had asked him, standing on the beach, as a tiny starfish had hit his tiny feet along with a wave.

Sitting in the sand, with his feet stretched and eyes closed, head pointing sunwards, Lakshmaiyyah was baffled at this question. He didn’t know how to answer it.

“Appa tell me…” Rama demanded a quick answer, making Lakshmaiyyah open his eyes.

“There are as many fish in the sea, as many stars are in the sky” his sister had answered the question before Lakshmaiyyah could provide little Rama with a more logical answer.

Rama was a bit baffled, before he realized his sister had made a fool out of him. He ran behind her, angrily as she fled towards the boat standing at the shore, through the gushing waves.

“Don’t run into the deep, Rama…” a smiling Lakshmaiyyah said.

“Aye Iyengar!!! Saab wants to see you” one of the assistants shouted from far, bringing Lakshmaiyyah back to the present. He nodded and began to get up looking in the direction where Rama had chased his taunting sister as another wave hit his feet.

The wave had become warmer. And Rama had gone too deep in the sea to hear him again.

Wiping his tears with the by now totally wet, brown handkerchief, Lakshmaiyyah approached the commissioner. The queue of compensation seekers had ended and the commissioner was far more at ease, reclining at his chair, sipping freshly brewed filter coffee from a yellow plastic mug with Vivek Oberoi’s photo across it.

“Sit Lakshmaiyyah” he said, softly.

Lakshmaiyyah obliged, sitting on the ground, looking up at the officer.

“See, now Rama’s name is not in the list. So there’s no way in which you can get the money.”

Lakshmaiyyah shifted in his place a bit uncomfortably.

“But”, sounding profound the commissioner continued, “There’s a small kid who you might adopt. He was found at the coast of the next village. The government provides 30 thousand rupees to the person who adopts kids who lost their parents. You seem to be a good man. You will take care of him.” He stopped, taking another sip from the mug.

Lakshmaiyyah was silent for a moment. He didn’t know what to do.

“Look, you lost your son. This kid lost his parents. He will complete your family. Treat him as his own. And then he gets with him the money you need to get back to your feet” the commissioner said, gauging Lakshmaiyyah’s state of two minds.

After a few moments, Lakshmaiyyah said, “Ok, I will take him home”

“Good then, he is there, sleeping on the backseat of the jeep. He was on a heavy dose of sedatives in the hospital. Sign these papers and take him with you.” The commissioner said matter of factly getting up from his chair and handing Lakshmaiyyah a 30 thousand cheque and some papers. Lakshmaiyyah took the cheque and signed the papers, his hands trembling a bit.

Lakshmaiyyah hesitantly started walking towards the jeep. He looked up in the sky and opened the back door of the jeep. As he looked at the child sleeping, with minor bruises on his face, he couldn’t believe his sight.

It was his own Ramakrishna in the jeep, sleeping peacefully in a blue-black blanket. With an unusual euphoria visible across his face, Lakshmaiyyah picked Rama up and kissed him on his cheeks and hugged him close to his chest. The kid was too under sedatives to notice his father’s outburst of love.

But as the moment of euphoria faded, Lakshmaiyyah felt a pang. If he told the commissioner that this kid was Ramakrishna, he would not get the 30 thousand rupees. But if he went off silently, he would get Rama as well as the money. He had two options, either sharing his happiness with the kind commissioner, who gave him the chance to adopt the kid or walking off with the cheque without thanking the man who gave him his kid back. One option was stressing on his needs, the other was playing with his integrity.

Lakshmaiyyah had never experiences the battle of consciences before. With his two minds battling against each other, racing to get their own things done, their own thoughts succeed, Lakshmaiyyah was getting pulled between the two consciences, with little Rama sleeping cozily near his heart.

But the money was necessary. He would need the money even more now, as Rama was back. Lakshmaiyyah decided to walk off silently. As he took his first step from the jeep, Rama opened his eyes and looked at him, smiled and said “Appa…” in a very sleepy, saccharine voice, before sleeping again.

That one word broke the dam of tears which Lakshmaiyyah had built in his heart. He wept uncontrollably, kissing Rama every time a lump came up his throat. He knew that he had to thank the commissioner. No money would ever get his away from the guilt if he didn’t express his gratitude.

He rushed towards the commissioner, with the cheque in his hand. Before he could speak a word, the commissioner spoke,

“You can call the kid Ramakrishna, Lakshmaiyyah. And you can have the cheque” he smiled.

Shocked, Lakshmaiyyah said, “Sir, You knew..?”

The commissioner looked at him, smiled and said, “Go home Iyengar. Your wife and daughter are waiting”

Lakshmaiyyah stood there baffled as the commissioner turned and walked away. He looked at him walk away and then looked up in the sky.

“You do exist” he said, smiled and turned back holding Rama closer leaving behind the beach alone. Gleaming, shining and smiling, in the newly risen sun.

- Nikhil Mahajan.