{"id":92273,"date":"2014-08-23T18:45:54","date_gmt":"2014-08-23T22:45:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/kanglaonline.com\/?p=68339"},"modified":"2014-08-23T18:45:54","modified_gmt":"2014-08-23T22:45:54","slug":"the-stemmed-flow-chenkhidraba-eechel","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.manipur.org\/news\/2014\/08\/23\/the-stemmed-flow-chenkhidraba-eechel\/","title":{"rendered":"The stemmed flow (Chenkhidraba Eechel)"},"content":{"rendered":"

By Nongthongbam Kunjamohon Singh<\/span><\/p>\n

Translated by Chitra Ahanthem<\/p>\n

Badarpur Junction. Looking around to check for any familiar faces was proving futile. It was better to get hold of a seat, so I got into a second class compartment. No one else had entered. I spread the hold-all on the long bench and sat down. Bored after looking at the melee of passengers milling around, I opened the copy of \u2018Hindustan Standard\u2019 that I had bought from \u2018Wheeler\u2019. Just as I was about to read the main headline, I heard the loud cries of \u2018chai garam, chai garam\u2019 intruding upon my ears. A head thrust inside from the open window continued, \u2018Cha lage Babu, garam samosa\u2019 (Need tea Babu, hot samosa?). My tempers frayed but there was nothing I could do about it, except to turn away my face after saying \u2018Na\u2019.<\/p>\n

Turning my face to the newspaper, I saw the headline in bold, \u2018China attacks India yet again, troops converge near the Mac Mohan line\u2019. I hardly got beyond the first line before it started again, \u2018Paan, cigarette. Babu, paan cigarette lage\u2019 (Paan, cigarette. Babu, do you need paan, cigarette?). This time, I said \u2018na\u2019 with just a hint of anger.<\/p>\n

I decided that this time, I would not bother at all. I would not turn up my face from the newspaper. Even without looking up, I was aware of people getting up and down around me. It was none of my business. Let them do what they had to. After all, I did not have to worry about my seat. The news was getting interesting: \u2018China ignores Colombo proposal\u2019.<\/p>\n

\u2018Oh! It\u2019s our Oja!\u2019 I was startled. It was the voice of a woman that I had not heard in my ears for a long time. I turned my face from the newspaper and saw her face that had the hint of a smile. The features had changed a bit but I could recognize her well. She kept the child she had in her lap on to the bench and bent down to pay her obeisance. The handsome bespectacled man by her side folded his hands to greet me. Though I did not know him, I assumed him to be her husband. But he could be some other relative too! To clear my doubt, I asked, \u201cBina, he is\u2026\u201d. Bina kept smiling shyly.<\/p>\n

So, they were indeed a couple. They made a good match. After all, Bina did not lack in beauty. Her husband spread the hold-all on the long bench before me. They sat down, keeping their child between them. The child was beautiful too and one never tired of looking. If only my Jiten had been alive\u2026<\/p>\n

I must have been lost in my thoughts while looking at the child intently when Bina treaded upon the world I was in, \u201cOja, it has been a long time. Where are you headed?\u201d<\/p>\n

True, it had been a long time. It would be about five years now. We had not met since the year I married and she passed her matriculation examinations.<\/p>\n

\u201cI am going to Shillong. What about you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDigboi. We had gone home for the holidays.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then it struck me. Bina\u2019s father had mentioned one day that her husband had a job at Digboi.<\/p>\n

The train started. The child remained transfixed on the world he saw unfolding around him. People who had come to see off or receive their loved ones remained behind waving their hands as the train moved on. If some had tears while bidding good-bye, a few did so with a smile. The junction slowly faded away from sight. In the sky above, the stars twinkled brightly. The child turned his face towards us; perhaps he was afraid of darkness.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome, sit with me,\u201d I said leading him to where I was sitting. He had no inhibitions. Bending slightly, I hugged him close and asked him, \u201cWhat is your name?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaster Dilip Singh.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood! Good!\u201d I hugged him just a bit more. \u201cAnd what is your father\u2019s name?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShri Ranjit Singh\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh! How nice!\u201d<\/p>\n

Just then, the noise of the train crossing a bridge made it impossible to hear anything else. When the bridge crossing got over, Dilip\u2019s father got up and said, \u201cMy apologies but I am going up. Please continue. I am dying to sleep. I had not been able to sleep yesterday too.\u201d<\/p>\n

He promptly went up without paying any heed to my suggestion that we talk a bit more. With him gone, I did not continue with the conversation. Bina remained seated looking at something in the darkness outside without batting an eye. What was she looking at: Was it the course of bitter sweet memories that she was confronted with now? Along with her, I suddenly reached a long forgotten cornerstone of my life that I had long left behind.<\/p>\n

I had no idea how long I remained brooding. Bina\u2019s question made me wake up instantly, \u201cHow is Inamma doing?\u201d<\/p>\n

The child was no longer with me. He was sleeping next to his mother. I had no idea when his mother had taken him.<\/p>\n

I answered as quickly as I could, \u201cIt\u2019s been two years since she left me for another world.\u201d<\/p>\n

After a silent pause, she asked again, \u201cWhat about the boy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe followed his mother. It\u2019s been a year now.\u201d<\/p>\n

I had not turned towards her all this while but I looked at her direction when I answered her questions. As I answered the last question, she made a sound. I looked at her and saw tears falling from her eyes. That was Bina. This was her true nature. She never could stay unaffected whenever she heard about other people\u2019s woes. I knew it now: she was sorry for me. She could see clearly how I would be living my life without anyone to look out for me. She knew her teacher did not care much about the world around him.<\/p>\n

I was a teacher then. Since the salary was not much, I took up tuitions. My classes were well appreciated and there was no dearth of students who came home for tuitions. Bina came for the classes along with her friend Ibemhal. They were to appear for their matriculation examinations and were diligent in their studies. The smile never left her face despite the distance of more than a mile that she took to come for her classes. She never missed her classes, even on the days that Ibemhal did not turn up. She always brought the pick of the Leihao flower along with her. Even if she had none to offer to my Indomcha, she always had a Leihao for me. My aunt often said in jest, \u201cHow caring she is of her Oja! She always ensures her Oja gets one!\u201d Hearing this, Bina would lower her face shyly with a slight smile. Whenever I chided her for lagging behind in her studies, her tears would flow.<\/p>\n

One day, my aunt started the topic of my marriage prospects to which I said, \u201cHow will I find a woman? I must be the most unfortunate man ever. No woman has come forth to say she loves me.\u201d<\/p>\n

My aunt retorted, \u201cWhy would women not love you? You do not lack in looks. But will a woman ever admit her feelings first? She would express it by gesture and attitude. It is you who has failed to recognize this. You are a simpleton, oblivious of what is around you.\u201d<\/p>\n

I did not realize the truth behind Indomcha\u2019s words then. Six months later, when the fallen leaves of autumn were swept off in the frenzied cries of the spring cuckoo, it brought a new beginning to my life as well. All my students came over to share their happiness on the day. But for whatever reason, Bina was not present. It struck me then that there might have been some truth in my aunt\u2019s words.<\/p>\n

I did not realize when I fell asleep. I woke up with a start when the train jerked as it reached some station. When I opened my eyes, I found a shawl covering my body. It surprised me no end for I had not covered myself. The shawl was not mine, either. But I knew who would have covered me up. She would have surely have done this to ward off the cold from her Oja. She was awake. \u201cHere, it\u2019s no longer cold,\u201d I said, handing back the shawl. Dilip\u2019s father too climbed down.<\/p>\n

In between small talk and freshening up, we did not notice the train having reached Lumding. Since we had to change trains we stepped down, taking our belongings. Keeping our things in the waiting room, all of us went to the railway restaurant. As I was about to pay for the food, Bina said with just a hint of anger, \u201cOja! How can you?\u201d And just as suddenly as a flood drying up, she said gently with a smile, \u201cI am no longer the student who could not stand up for herself. I run a household now. Will I not have this privilege of serving you during this chance meeting after a span of five years?<\/p>\n

I had to give in quietly.<\/p>\n

Soon, we reached the down train. Twenty minutes later, the whistle started to go off. All three of them walked me off till the platform. I took out a five rupee note and handed it to Bina\u2019s son. When Bina animatedly tried to say something, she stopped when I said, \u201cSilent! You cannot say anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

Once the salutations were over, I climbed on the train, which began to start off slowly. Soon, the distance grew and the three of them: mother, father and son remained behind waving at me. After a while, just as the train took a slight bend, I saw in a blur Bina\u2019s hands which had been waving at me, wiping the tears away from her eyes with the ends of her innaphi.<\/p>\n

(This translation of the short story written by the late Nongthongbam Kunjamohon in 1963 has been recently published in Tamna, a half yearly journal brought out by the Manipur Chapter of the North East Writers\u2019 Forum)<\/p>\n\n

Read more \/ Original news source: http:\/\/kanglaonline.com\/2014\/08\/the-stemmed-flow-chenkhidraba-eechel\/<\/a><\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

By Nongthongbam Kunjamohon Singh Translated by Chitra Ahanthem Badarpur Junction. Looking around to check for any familiar faces was proving futile. It was better to get hold of a seat,<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6,4],"tags":[2666,330],"class_list":["post-92273","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-kanglaonline","category-news","tag-articles-opinions","tag-kanglaonline-2"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.manipur.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/92273","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.manipur.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.manipur.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.manipur.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.manipur.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=92273"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.manipur.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/92273\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.manipur.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=92273"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.manipur.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=92273"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.manipur.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=92273"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}