Bhramar

Chapter 4 — Accident

Mohan was in a bind. He was caught between the harsh dictates of duty and conscience on the one hand and his affection for his lifelong friend on the other.

What strategy could get him out of this conundrum?

There was a conflict raging inside Mohan.

Duty said: “Don't waver from your responsibilities. You have spent your life reciting the Gita. Is this what you have learned? On the line of duty, you will have to shun not one but a thousand like him.”

Affection said: “Mohan! Don't be cruel. You are not a wooden puppet. Does one always give in to the demands of wisdom and conscience? Love and affection, do they not mean anything to you? Poor Shekhar! Even from childhood he was always weak of will. Do you want to give up your childhood friend on the altar of your conscience? Moreover, who are you to judge Shekhar?”

Suddenly a suspicion arose in Mohan. Could it be that Tulsi Bajey was slandering Shekhar on some hearsay? But how could that be? Oh lord... someone as pure-hearted as Tulsi Bajey could never go around bad-mouthing people. Even thinking along such lines was sinful. Hadn’t Mohan witnessed such great sadness in him yesterday?

Mohan sat restlessly on the armchair. His mind was plagued by numerous thoughts.

Indrashekhar walked in. His handsome visage ushered in the morning brightness, splattering sunbeams in the room.

How beautiful his bodily form—healthy and supple. His face had the innocence of a child. His coal-black eyes were full of mirth. Every article in the room seemed to spring with life as he made his entry. Mohan's insecurity, his fears and doubts—all vanished. Affection vanquished duty.

A little while later, the two friends went on a stroll towards Birch Hill. Numerous feathered songsters were chirping their morning melodies. They found a quiet corner at Birch Hill. The two of them lay on a grassy bank and began to talk. Time passed. They didn't notice anything else. Their bodies, worn out by the cares of city life, were re-energized by the beauty of the mountains.

What bliss it was to laze under the cool shade of the conifers.

They lounged around like that for a long time. Suddenly Mohan looked at his watch and said, “Lord, look how time passes. It is almost five to one. Shekhar, don't you want to go home? Or would you rather spend your entire life here?”

Shekhar got up, shaking the dust off his trousers. They descended from Birch Hill and, taking the main Cart Road, walked into town.

Three young girls, similarly attired, were walking about twenty-five paces in front of them. Mohan tried to slacken his pace. Shekhar, on the other hand, wanted to hurry. Mohan understood Shekhar's intent and was extremely hurt by it. He felt sad at his friend’s polluted mind and lustful disposition.

All of a sudden a car, honking and raising an enormous cloud of dust, sped towards the girls. The three of them, lost in their gossip, ran helter-skelter.

Unfortunately one of them was caught by the bonnet of the car. She was flung to the floor. Indrashekhar ran ahead and caught up with her. Mohan apprehended the driver.

The passengers disembarked from the vehicle. The other two girls began to nurse their friend. Mohan brought the driver to the scene of the incident.

By this time, Shekhar had lifted the girl from the ground. On recognizing her face he shouted in alarm, “Mohan, it's a terrible tragedy. This is Bina.”

“Bina—is she hurt?” said Mohan, coming closer. The two of them put her inside the vehicle with some effort.

On closer inspection it appeared as if Bina wasn't so badly hurt. The car had just knocked her down. There was a small cut on her face and she had bruised her elbow.

Mohan brought some water from a nearby tap and sprinkled it on her face. Deepti tore her saree and bandaged her wound. Pravah put her head on her lap and wiped her face.

A while later Bina regained consciousness, and seeing the onlookers her cheeks reddened with shame.

In the end Mohan, Shekhar and the two girls took Bina to Shekhar's house.

Maina Devi panicked on seeing Bina in such a state. She made her lie on the bed and asked Shekhar to call the doctor.

Prabha and Deepti sat next to Bina in the bedroom.

Mohan waited for the doctor in the outer room.

It had been two days since the accident. Bina was still at Shekhar’s house. At first glance it seemed as if Bina bore no serious wounds. But the doctors opined that although there were not many external injuries, the accident had done significant damage to her heart and liver. It was a fact that on the night of the injury Bina had fever and she felt a pain in her chest while breathing.

Maina Devi, Lalit Singh, Bina’s old aunt and Indrashekhar—all of them were swallowed by grief. For the past two days, Lalit Singh, who worshipped his work, had left everything and devoted himself entirely to Bina’s care. Maina Devi had lost her sleep. Indrashekhar had given up his poetry and art and spent his time with the doctor and medicines. Lalit Singh’s peaceful family was grieving.

All the care of her loved ones helped Bina recuperate. In another ten days she regained her health. Shedding a few tears of gratitude, she went back to her old aunt’s house.

All the time that Bina was sick in bed, Shekhar did not think of anything else. Round the clock he was focused on making Bina well again, in alleviating her pain. He lost track of time and everything else that was happening in the world around him.

Today Bina had asked for leave and gone back to her home.

Shekhar felt empty in his body and soul. His situation was like that of a bride’s family who, having celebrated the wedding night with pomp and show, bid their farewell to the bride in the morning and then stared vacantly at the empty altar where the marriage fires had been lit, shedding tears.

Shekhar was weighed down with melancholy. Life to him was a meaningless mockery.