In the middle of the night, the rain had arrived with all its strength and decided to stay for a few hours over the town. Many of those who had to leave for work early in the morning were saddened by the thought of the day not being a holiday, one of these people was Bhuvan.
Bhuvan had risen earlier than usual, not for going to the office though. It was for a purpose which was yet unknown to him. His uncle Mahavir Chaganti had called the previous night.
“Tomorrow at 9 am sharp, I will pick you up from Tiwari tea stall. Be there on time” were the words Mr Chaganti had spoken to Bhuvan on a phone call the previous day and he had disconnected the call before Bhuvan could respond. Now, Bhuvan was up at 5:30 am, staring into the darkness of the room and yawning. He had to finish and mail a report had been working on late at night, since he wasn’t going to be among the crowd present in the office that day.
Later at 8:30 am Bhuvan was out in his light grey shirt and charcoal coloured trousers; in one of his hands was a black umbrella. He carefully took large steps to avoid the puddle of water that had collected over the brief fall of heavy rain, yet by the time he reached Tiwari’s tea stall, his formal slip-on shoes had light visible marks of splashed mud.
Bhuvan looked at his analog watch on his wrist, it was 8:50 am. He removed his specs to clean a drop of water on the glass. It was from the leaves of the Jamun tree he had passed under on his way here.
Bhuvan noticed his uncle cycling his way through to the tea stall and he came to a stop. Mr Chaganti was chewing paan, a habit he had picked from his own father.
“I suppose you won’t be having tea then,” said Bhuvan
Mr Chaganti paused, adjusting his mouth to speak with the presence of the paan.
“We will have tea later, we must be on our way. We have to go to Godari,” spoke Mr Chaganti
“The village Godari? Today is Wednesday, I don’t think there is any bus which goes there today,” said Bhuvan
Mr Changanti got down from his bicycle, “Then you better hand me the umbrella and start cycling.”
“Cycle? All that way..” said Bhuvan in a surprised tone but fell silent on seeing his uncle’s serious expression. He got on the cycle and his uncle sat on the carrier.
“Let’s go, I know a shortcut,” said Mr Chaganti and Bhuvan started pedalling
The way was long and there was indeed a shortcut but it was devoid of any structured paved road. The ground was wet and both Bhuvan and his uncle tumbled down at least two times and almost a third. Every day at office had robbed Bhuvan of his strength and stamina and he was clearly failing to balance his uncle’s excess weight on the bicycle.
They stopped at a clearing partially covered with water.
“This used to be a lake,” said Mr Chaganti, “I used to come here often with your aunt for a long time.”
Bhuvan stood looking around, mostly at his clothes whose appearance had gone through some major change since he had started from home wearing them.
“Uncle, if you don’t mind telling me, why are we going to Godari, do you have some work?” asked Bhuvan
“You will know when we get there,” said Mr Chaganti, “.. and you should start exercising, at your age I used to cycle long distances with people sitting behind me, your generation is used to everything easily done and served on a plate”
They continued their journey with Bhuvan pedalling with aching legs and a mind and body which had started to break from the physical activity. They entered the village and the wheels of the bicycle came to a stop in front of an old house.
Mr Chaganti rang the bell and a woman stepped out to open the small iron gates with a smile.
“This is Mrs Johal, my friend Asvin’s wife,” said Mr Chaganti to Bhuvan and Bhuvan greeted Mrs Johal while following Mr Chaganti into the house
Mr Chaganti’s friend was overjoyed to meet him and Bhuvan. He enquired about the journey and how Mr Chaganti had been doing and then the conversation changed direction.
“So, this is the boy,” said Mr Johal
“Yes, this is the boy,” said Mr Chaganti
‘I am… the boy?’ thought Bhuvan although he was well into his adulthood
“He is well educated and works in a private firm,” said Mr Chaganti at which Mr Johal seemed to smile wider
“Should I call her?” asked Mr Johal
“Sure.. call her,” said Mr Chaganti
‘Call whom?’ thought Bhuvan, ‘is this another ‘can you find her a job’ thing’
A young woman shyly stepped inside in traditional Indian dress and Mr Chaganti looked at her and responded to her greeting him.
“All right, Bhuvan, this is Brinda, why don’t you talk to her.. somewhere outside,” said Mr Chaganti
Bhuvan stood up confused and walked outside with Brinda following. They stood outside, some of the neighbours passed by while smiling at them, something Bhuvan couldn’t understand.
‘All right, I have seen this a few times, I can do it,’ thought Bhuvan
“Brinda,” said Bhuvan and Brinda looked at Bhuvan shyly, “you don’t need to be shy, this must be your first time having this kind of conversation.. I was also lacking confidence the first time, but now after going through several such conversations, I am pretty confident.”
A questioned look appeared on Brinda’s face but then it normalised.
“Have you completed your graduation?” asked Bhuvan
“Yes,” smiled Brinda, “I have done postgraduation as well.. M Com”
“Good, so any working experience?”
“Six months internship as junior content developer for an educational website”
“Nice. So, you will have no problem relocating from here to the town?” asked Bhuvan
A lot of emotions came and passed by on Brinda’s face which Bhuvan could not understand and then she uttered, “I will have no problem relocating”
Bhuvan and Brinda stood silent for some time and then they decided to step back inside.
Bhuvan sat next to his uncle while Brinda walked into a room.
“So, what do you think?” asked Mr Chaganti to Bhuvan with Mr Johal eagerly awaiting the answer
“I will need some time,” said Bhuvan, “but she is fine.”
Mr Chaganti and Mr Johal looked at each other and smiled, and Mrs Johal came out smiling with a tray of sweets and cups of tea.
Bhuvan thought he heard giggles form within the house. This time he started to be more understanding of the emotions.
It was time to leave and Bhuvan kept thinking about all the professional roles for which he could recommend Brinda on whose employment apparently the happiness and expectation of her whole family was dependent and within the house Brinda and as well as everyone else including Mr Chaganti felt happy thinking Bhuvan was on the verge of accepting Brinda’s marriage proposal.
Written by Anuran Chatterji
Early Morning Memories 
One response to “Where the words fell”
Nice story.
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