Datia is a district town in Madhya Pradesh, about 400 kms south of Delhi located on the main rail link of Indian railways. It iboasts of many temples and lakes. It used to be a princely state founded in the sixteenth century by a Bundela King. The town has many palaces and is walled with huge gates which of course now remain open all 24 hours. The town has expanded beyond the ancient walls with Govt offices and residential colonies coming up.
My parents, both doctors were posted in Datia while I was studying in college in another city. Naturally, I regularly kept returning there during vacations. Datia is very memorable to me for two more reasons. One, that I got married there. And the other is that our son was born there. In those days late in the fifties, my father was in charge of the hospital. Under him, there used to be a working staff of few persons for day to day running of the hospital. It included two men servants whose main job was to bring water from the wells most of the working hours. There was no piped water supply then. Outside hospital working hours, these two guys worked in our house for which my father paid them separately. Their main work was cleaning utensils and washing clothes and linen. As you must have guessed, there were no dish washers or laundry machines in those days. Both these men were in their early thirties. This post is about one of them. And it is a true story!
His name was Pilloo. For a man servant, he was always properly dressed. I thought he was quite good looking too as compared to the other servant. And he spoke and behaved differently, better than those of his class. I was quite intrigued by him sometimes. Whenever I came home during vacations, I liked talking to him. Soon after, in the evenings, I started taking him with me for walks which made him very happy. We used to go out of the town, across the rail tracks, visiting temples, hills and other scenic spots. He behaved like a professional guide explaining to me the significance and history of those places. He being more than ten years elder to me, always took care of me and treated me like his younger brother. For that hour of our outings together, we both almost forgot that he was a servant in our pay!
During one such vacation when I was home, I resumed my evening walks with Pilloo. I still remember that evening when we decided to visit a small temple located on a hill. It was about two miles from the town across the railway line. There were at least a hundred steps to climb to reach the temple. After we visited the temple and paid our respects to the idol of God or goddess, we decided to sit down on the steps for a little while to rest and catch our breath. And then I asked him if he ever went to school and tried to study. He would have done much better in life as compared to what he was doing then. He did not reply immediately and was quiet for a minute or so. And then he came out with the story of his life for which I was least prepared. Following is the gist of what he narrated! Quote'
Bhaiya (brother), you are so nice and good to me, it makes me very happy. I feel very peaceful. Believe me, I look forward to your visits and these evening walks. Today, I feel like telling you my life story for whatever worth it is. But I request you not to share it with any one else. (He paused and then resumed) . Many things which I am about to tell you, I came to know from my mother and my close relatives after I reached the age of seventeen or so. My father also worked in this hospital where I am employed now. That was more than thirty years back when I was not even born. He was a peon or something like that. And my mother worked as a maid in the house of the doctor in charge. My father was much elder to my mother. My parents did not have a child for many years after their marriage.
And then one fine day, my mother found herself pregnant. In due course of time, I was born. There were the usual celebrations. When I was about four years, my father suddenly left home without telling anyone. He just disappeared without caring for his job in the hospital, or for my mother and myself. It must have been so shocking to all. For my poor mother, it was a disaster! With no proper job and no financial support from anyone, she was going through very hard times.
At this critical juncture, the doctor who was in charge of the hospital stepped in. He took interest in my growing up as a child. He arranged to get me admitted in the primary school. And he paid for whatever were expenses on my account. His wife was a nice lady. They had no children. She took care of me and my mother in whatever way she could. Life went on as smoothly as was possible under the circumstances . But a strange twist to this journey was slowly manifesting. The doctor and his wife began to have frequent arguments for the smallest of reasons. Day by day, this worsened. The doctor, it was learnt, asked for immediate transfer to another station. And within two months, he got the orders to move which he did with his wife, and bag and baggage. It was so sudden, the hospital staff was thrown into a sort of disarray. Of course, another doctor, and elderly man arrived in time to take charge and things were restored to normalcy. But it was a blow for my mother and myself to have been deprived of the valuable support we had been getting from the previous doctor!
My poor mother continued to work as a maid. But she could not meet the additional expenses on account of my schooling, books and stationery, proper clothes and such things. Very soon, I dropped out from the school and started helping her in small ways as my age will allow. Many more years passed. My mother, now getting old missed my father and so did I. On many occasions, I asked her as to why he went away like that never to return. One day, I was more insistent. 'Do you want to know the truth?' She asked. Yes, of course, I replied. 'He left because of me' she replied. What happened between you two, I asked. 'I will tell you if you promise that you will forgive me', she responded. I promise! I said.
'Beta, my dear son, he is not your real father'. Then who is my real father? 'You are the son of a doctor' she continued with great difficulty. 'The same doctor who took such great care of you and then had to move suddenly to another station is your real father. Your father guessed it very soon and could not bear the shame and humiliation. So he went away. I do not blame him. But I pray daily for his well being'! I was so stunned to hear what my dear mother said, I did not know what to do. It was a shock for me, you can imagine. Then I tried to console her. After all, she is my mother. She led a hard life for my sake. She fell to a temptation no doubt. But I am the result of it. It is she who taught me many good things, simple things of life. If you think that I am better and different than others of my class, it is entirely due to her. I will always take good care of her!
Now I have got this job in the same place, same hospital. And I am happily married. Our first baby is on the way. And my mother is happy with us. She has retired. What more does one want in life? It appears that there is a divine hand in this scheme of things!' Unquote!
I was stunned as well as spell bound. Not just because of what he told me, but because this simple man shared his most confidential part of life with me with trust and faith and affection for me. I was too young to comprehend the full meaning of his narrative. I felt deeply honoured!
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