ETERNAL COMPANIONS

Swar in Purakhpur

Swar’s P.O.V...

I took off the cover of my navy-blue guitar and began playing it.

I was elated to see that not only the girl but everyone in the coach started enjoying the tune.

I stood up from my seat and became more free and informal with all of them. I sang along as I played the popular old song’s tune; they all began dancing. I was overjoyed and danced with them. Rakesh was enjoying the fun too.

In no time, I was completely comfortable with all the people I had first felt embarrassed to talk to. For the first time, I didn’t feel any hesitation being with complete strangers. They were all funny and full of energy. I think every journey should be this way—spending time with fellow travellers, dancing, singing, and eating together without any awkwardness.

It felt like I was part of some huge joint family, including people of all generations. I ate with them and shared my food too. It’s really fun to see the outside world. Many rich people like me don’t even get to see such unique things, although they are so common for the people who deal with them every day.

After a while...

The train halted at a station; it was 12 o’clock. Everyone got out of the coach as if they were going for some trail kind of thing. I woke Rakesh, who had fallen asleep soon after the eating session, so we could also go.

“What, yaar (pal) Swar? Let me sleep,” he replied, half his eyes open.

“Hey ladoo, I told you, you’re not gonna spoil the fun by just eating and sleeping. Look at those people—let’s go outside,” I said, pulling him from his seat.

“What! Have we reached?” He got up suddenly.

“No, i***t! The train has just halted for a while. Let’s go, come on,” I gritted my teeth.

“Where do you have to go? The train will leave soon,” he replied drowsily, leaning back on his seat again.

“Oh God! There’s no use talking to you. I’ll go by myself. You just sleep and get more fat, okay?” I said, rolling my eyes.

I left Rakesh alone in the compartment and got down from the coach.

“Wow, what a lovely start for an afternoon,” I muttered to myself.

There were many things on the station to look at—a chaiwala (tea seller), a man selling newspapers laid out in front of him, and many people sitting on benches. Probably everyone was wearing woollen clothes even in the afternoon. The weather was slightly sunny. As I walked a few steps further, the beautiful sun rays showered upon me. I covered my eyes with my hand, as I couldn’t bear those rays, and with closed eyes I prayed to the sun for a good start to my life.

I’m not a believer in praying to the sun and all that, but Dadaji does this every day, so I just felt like doing the same. I miss my Dadaji very much—more than Mom, Dad, or Sunaina.

I glanced around; many girls were checking me out. To keep my impression on point, I took out my grey shades from my hoodie’s pocket and wore them. I began walking toward one of the girls who had been looking at me.

“Hello, Miss. Can you tell me which place this is?” I asked, lowering my shades with my finger, my eyebrows furrowed.

“This is…” She said the name of the station, but I didn’t hear it at all—I was too busy running my fingers through my hair, trying to woo her. It’s my passion, my hobby, whatever.

“Actually, you know, I’m a newbie, so I got confused. I thought that—” I smiled constantly, trying to converse more with her, but someone pulled me by my arm.

“What huh? So this is the fun you were talking about just a few minutes ago?” It was Rakesh. He pulled my ear and spoke in a teasing tone.

“Oh bro, you’re here,” I said, caught guilty.

“Shut up, don’t change the topic. Answer me,” he demanded persistently.

“Oh, that! I was just asking which place this is—just for information, you know,” I tried to convince him, swaying my hands and adjusting my shades like I was totally innocent.

“Hm, I know—you’ll never accept that you were flirting.”

“No man, you know—”

“Oh, just shut up, Swar. I’m your best friend. Don’t try to make a fool of me.”

“Okay then, I accept. But as always, it’s not my fault. All the girls were staring at me, so I thought of approaching one of them, that’s all,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Hm… Swar, I think your dad has already fixed your marriage, right?”

“So?”

“So stop paying attention to those girls and focus on the one you’re gonna get married to,” he laughed.

“You dare hit my nerve—I’ll not spare you, ladoo!” I said, irritated.

“Oh, oh, I’m sorry, please, I’m tired—don’t make me run more,” Rakesh panted as I chased him to smack him.

We almost ran across the entire station before sitting on an empty bench, gasping.

“What do you think, bro? How will she be?” Rakesh asked, still out of breath.

“I’ve not dreamt of her yet. Don’t know,” I shook my head.

“Oh s**t!” I exclaimed.

“What happened?”

“Damn, damn, damn! My dad has her photo with her entire family, but I didn’t see it. I was in such a hurry to visit Purakhpur that I completely forgot. Oh no!” I banged my fist on the bench.

“Tell Uncle to send her photo through w******p—simple as that,” Rakesh suggested.

“Yeah, you’re a genius,” I sighed.

I paused for a second before taking my phone out from my jeans’ back pocket, but stopped. “Nope, I won’t. Let that girl remain a mystery. For now, her name is enough for me to imagine how she would be,” I grinned.

“By the way, what’s her name? I forgot,” Rakesh asked.

“Bela,” I said loudly, already dreaming again.

The train whistled—I was out of my world.

“Let’s go, ladoo.”

Inside the coach, I saw the people who had gotten down return to their seats. I stretched my limbs and sat, giving all of them a wide, teeth-showing smile.

I thought of wearing my headphones again and dreaming of getting a better dream this time. Rakesh continued his sleep, which I had disturbed minutes earlier.

---

Writer’s P.O.V...

Purakhpur:

“Hey Meera, Ragini, Parul, Mrinali! Come here, fast!” Bela gasped as she came running from her house to the banyan tree, where her friends were busy gossiping.

“Oh, oh, Bela, slow down, take a deep breath,” said one of her friends.

“Okay, fine, listen! There’s good news—for me and for the entire village!” Bela gasped.

“Tell us, tell us, fast!” Her friends circled her, curious.

“My marriage has been fixed—with the richest guy in India! He’s so handsome, so stylish, so rich—I can’t believe it!” Bela spoke impulsively.

“Really?” They all looked surprised.

“Yes!”

“How’s that possible? Has he seen you yet? Did he come here or something?” her friends asked.

“Nope. He’s my dad’s friend’s son.”

“Oh! Congratulations, so nice to hear that!”

“My dad’s going to write to them about my acceptance of their proposal,” she said, blushing.

“Look, Ragini, somebody’s cheeks are getting red! Just look at how she’s blushing. Very lucky, yeah, Bela,” her friends teased and complimented her.

---

“Wonderful!” exclaimed Swar as he saw the sun meeting the massive river from the train’s window.

“What’s there?”

“See, ladoo—it’s so delightful.”

“Yes, magnificent.”

“The sun’s setting, Swar. We’re going to reach the outskirts of Purakhpur soon—within two to three hours.”

“Yes.”

“Are you excited, bro?”

“Yup, very, very much.”

---

Bela and her friends were gossiping and dancing, singing songs and celebrating her marriage proposal. The night was up, and the moon shone in the dark blue sky—cool and calm. Gentle breezes blew through the air. Bela was still unable to come out of her happy zone and enjoyed every moment of her celebration.

Singing is the first art established in Purakhpur. Not a single occasion is celebrated without singing and dancing. The culture is so rich that every man and woman knows classical singing and dancing. They’re pros at it. They prefer to sing in their own voices rather than using any tape recorders or radios, because everyone has a lovely voice and amazing classical and folk dancing skills.

---

Swar and Rakesh were alert for the past few minutes before getting down at Purakhpur. As the train halted, they grabbed their luggage and stepped out. Many passengers from Swar’s coach also got down at the same stop, though some had left earlier.

“Excuse me, Kaka (uncle), which is the correct way to reach Purakhpur after this long train journey?” Swar asked an old man who had been in his coach.

“So you want to go there? Okay, see, beta (child), first you have to take a bus from a little further down. The bus will reach the Nauka-Vahan (boat stop) within fifteen minutes. Then, you’ll need to take a boat from there to go to Purakhpur. The boat will reach the village within one hour, and from there, you can take a bullock cart or walk to your destination.”

“It’s so complicated, Swar! I told you we should’ve brought the car.”

“Shut up, ladoo! If we’ve come this far, we can do this too. It’s not as complicated as you’re making it sound. Just follow me,” Swar shouted.

“God, there’s so much to walk!”

“If you utter one more word, I’m gonna punch you right in your stomach and take out what you’ve eaten. Understand?”

Rakesh clenched his fingers and muttered, “He’s always irritating.”

Swar heard that and said, “Just walk fast, fat ladoo.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rakesh replied, rushing to match Swar’s pace.

Swar used his mobile flashlight to clear the darkness of the night as they continued walking. They couldn’t see much, but the typical earthy village smell surrounded them, along with the stridulation of crickets.

The shaking noise of branches creeped them out as they walked—especially Rakesh. It was around 9 or 9:30 at night, and nobody was present on the road. The road was muddy, covered with stones, sand, and dried leaves fallen from the trees. They stumbled after each step and were also scared—Rakesh was terrified of ghosts. Swar wasn’t frightened, but the eerie atmosphere made him uneasy too. It was completely silent.

“You want to take a bus?” a strange voice exclaimed from behind.

Swar and Rakesh both shivered and started walking faster without glancing back—they were already scared.

“Do you want a bus to reach somewhere?” The voice followed them again, louder this time.

Swar and Rakesh stopped—finally trying to face the voice from behind. They glanced back...