Translation: Amish’s Father (Hindi Fiction)

Santosh Shrivastav

A Hindi story by Santosh Shrivastav
 (Translated by Heena Bindal)

It was not long since Pant Ji came into that room. But it seemed to me as if since long, I was present there. The isolation and disintegration of Pant Ji have started transcending into me. While he was sipping his tea, his silent eyes were gazing at his 60 years old polio ridden son Amish, who was sitting at his wheel chair. I could trace reproach towards almighty in his eyes.

It was his fifth day in the health care center and I was his neighbor. He knew, I was a social worker. The reason for residing in an elder care center was to seek liberation from life’s boundless troubles and devoting myself to my treasured deeds. But Pant Ji had upsetting complaints against God, society and even his own daughter. He put the cup onto the table after finishing the tea.

“I don't know why it happened with me? I had been to all the pilgrimage places of India. I had visited all the Jyotirlingas. While we returned home after visiting Mahabal of Ujjain, my wife had a heart attack. For complete 20 days, she was on a ventilator in a hospital. Then also the doctors could not save her.”

“Oh, It is full of Sorrow.”

“She died on the third day after reaching to the hospital, but doctors wanted to earn money. So, they kept her on a ventilator. It is all business everywhere.”

Heena Bindal

Amish at this struggled to speak, “Goan…Goan…” and started staring at him.”

“He doesn't like such kind of talk. Even I don't like. But the situations also don’t get change, so as to let us forget all these.” Then an attendant came and started taking Amish out of the room. But he didn't want to go. He started striking his hands fiercely at the handles of the wheelchair and started nodding his head quickly. Pant Ji looked at the attendant helplessly and with such an emotion, as if conveying to take him out for some time. It seemed as if the attendant had started understanding the language of his eyes. He caressed Amish’s head and said, 

“Amish Babu so many Parijat flowers have fallen in the lawn of the garden today. Come and let's pick and smell their fragrances.”

Within a moment Amish got happy. He nodded positively to go and joined his hands to wish me Namaste. Silence overlapped the room as they left and this silence broke with the depressing conversation by Pant Ji.

“How long could have my daughter kept us. She also has her own life, her own home, my son in law…

Then in a supportive argument in favour of his son in law he said “Indeed my son in law is good. He possesses reputed job, reputed duplex bungalow, car, servants and everything. In fact, considering all this we got our daughter married.”

“Do you have only one daughter?”

He was astonished at my question. 

“No, Two. One is in California. She had love marriage with an Amritsari sardar. They have two children; a son and a daughter. Two years ago, they came during the death of my wife. But it was my younger daughter, who had been with us throughout. Also, younger son in law…what shall be done, since God has given us a son like…” his clamoring voice stopped at this. Tears could be traced in his dry eyes, as if some cloud wishes to outpour in a desert.

His unsaid pain seemed to be revealing as if he had got too lonely after the death of his wife. 

For the past 60 years, his wife had been nursing Amish. He would reach sometimes near the bed, and other times near the chair while crawling on his knees. He would try to ascend on these, but failed. He could not even speak, and would express his helplessness by producing a suffocating sound of “Goan…Goan.” He tries to go to the bathroom but couldn’t control the pressure. It passes in between the way…his wife bore and tolerated all this. But this all was difficult at daughter’s home. For some days my son in low tolerated all this. Then the search for this place began. But even here he is not happy.

“Now look at the kind of food being served here; can it be digested by the old? The menu of a Five Star hotel seems tempting but eating such kind of food regularly invites ill health.” “What is your age? You look young.” “I am 87 years old. This place is meant for the old and the provision of the food should be accordingly. What do you say?”

His words were seemingly complaining. The insidious fluidity could be traced in his words. He got lost in the memory of his wife. 

I sought his permission to go.

“Keep visiting, my heart feels relieved while talking to you.”

While saying okay, I reached towards the door. He also came out along with me. There was a stick in his hands. He could not walk without the aid of the stick. While coming outside the door to escort me he asserted, “They charge too much here, but don't provide satisfactorily services.”

“OK. You take care. Everything will be adjusted within some days.”

Coming into my room, I sipped some cold water and seated myself stiff on the bed. Thinking whatever is the situation of the man, he is always unsatisfied. To adjust oneself as per the situation, is not everyone's cup of tea. Specially for the men, it is too difficult. Before marriage they are dependent on mother and sister and after marriage on wife and daughter. 

There was a bell at the door. I had my evening tea inside Pant Ji’s room, still Madan brought my share of tea and roasted Fox nuts and asked 

“Dadi what would you take in dinner?”

(It is a rule here to call old one’s Dada- Dadi) 

“Bring porridge, ginger garlic chutney and salad. Soup made up of bottle gourd and tomato.” 

Madan poured the tea and placed it on to the table. 

“Mistakenly I gave tea to Amish bhaiya, in place of coffee. He spilled it all over the tray. This should not have been done. Had he said wouldn't I brought coffee for him.”

“Don't feel disheartened with Amish’s gestures. He is physically helpless. The poor can't even speak.”

“But Pant Dada could speak. Intercom was lying beside his bed.”

Madan was disheartened the way Amish behaved. All cannot understand the suffering of others. I was full of some strange emotions, when Madan left. I felt as if I was being surrounded by some strange shadows. Someone was unable to walk, other could not speak, yet other could not listen. Forcefully, I closed my eye lashes. With closed lashes, I could see the flickering darkness and light. 

My heart got restless. 

Same had been the situation of my heart when I visited the ashram “Abhyansh”, on the birth anniversary of my husband, to celebrate it with the residents there. 

Those were the days of Summer. Till the time I had been in Mumbai, the sea had never felt warm. In Mumbai there was no heat stroke. If the far away heat waves blown, the touch of the white chest of the sea turned them pleasant. But now in Bhopal, the heat waves during the summer were beyond tolerance. Then I thought, I should take some Cold drink in the ashram. Thandai was a good idea. Along with it some samosas, burgers and chenna sweets. Making all the arrangements, when I reached in the ashram, I found around 40 residents, waiting for me in a big hall. Everyone's face brightened up by looking at me. The disabled from the age of 10 to 70. The server at the old age home Nalini Ji told everyone, “She is Anamika ji. Today she wouldl celebrate the birth anniversary of her deceased husband with us. At this some clapped, but some were sitting depressed. Within sometime all started saying, “Today is also our birthday. Bring cake, bring balloons.”

Nalini ji along with her helpers served snacks to all in the paper plates. Thandai was filled from the container. I was inquiring about the health of all by going near them. There was no synchronization in between their distorted sentences and bodily gestures. Some were blind, others were paralyzed. One was continuously laughing. It seemed it was all together a strange world which was totally isolated from the society. 

I had brought t-shirt as a gift for all. 

When I opened the packet for distribution Nalini ji interrupted, “Do not give it now. They won't understand. If you give clothes in their hands, they would tear them. We have to make them wear. The one who is moving his legs while sitting on the chair, tears his clothes 3 to 4 times in a day.”

I shuddered. Tears poured out of my eyes which I suppressed inside with the hanky. The one who had been laughing continuously started shouting, “Why are you crying? Don't cry, but laugh.” He started laughing again. As if he was laughing at God’s injustice, laughing at his miserliness; that he did not make them complete humans. Suddenly he lifted his eyes towards the door of the hall. As if someone was coming inside from the door and he was watching him. In a moment his laughter ceased and fear could be traced in his eyes. His eyelashes opened wide and his whole body trembled as if in shock. Afraid he ran towards me shouting, “Run! Run from here, I don't like people who cry, run.”

Before he pulled me, Nalini Ji's helper took her to the room adjacent to the hall and made him seated at the chair and then returned after locking the room. 

“Forgive us Anamika ji, we have to face such situations on daily basis.”

“You are great. I salute you. How beautifully you are managing the injustice done by God. I am taking leave but I will keep on visiting.” 

Nalini ji came to drop me near my car. The car started moving on the road. The bulbs of the sign board of the ashram lit up “Abhyansh”. I started decoding the meaning of “Abhyansh” deeply. Abhyansh means unafraid. Neither were the residents there worried of their future nor were they afraid of their present. Unaware of the struggles of life, they were lost in their own world. My heart got heavy thinking all this. 

On return, while fixing the key at the door I found my heart wandering. What I had seen, what I had felt, made me ponder constantly. The world is full of sorrows. No one is untouched by the grief. However, we consider ourselves to be in the ultimate pain and others to be joyous. How would Nalini Ji be managing so many physically and mentally undeveloped people? How challenging it was for them to tolerate such internal contrast. Their silence, their screaming, their furious cries and their furious laughter. How difficult it was to peep into their hearts. The activities they perform were not concerned to them but what about Nalini ji and her helpers. Pondering over this, my heart got entangled in the emotion of amazement, fear and anxiety.

Seated on a sofa, uselessly I turned my mobile phone on and off. I made a firm decision to go to Abhyansh in a month or two, if not more and spend some time with them. I could not fulfill for the darkness of their lives, but by talking to them for a while, at least I could momentarily soothe their hearts.

I engaged myself in my deeds. Also, the work of social service was expanding. Being the president of women association I had to manage a lot of things. There was excessive run around…sometimes the distribution of stationary amongst the poor students, sometimes the collective marriage of orphan girls, other times distribution of sewing machine or arrangements for the home industries of pickle or papad for procuring sources of income for the widows. Such tasks were indeed blissful. Wiping the tears of the people in need and spreading happiness, seems to bring salvation in life. But their woes and worries haunted me for long. I was relieving myself by penning down my pain in the diary for a while, but then Amish came in front of my sight. His helplessness and insignificant life had agitated me deeply. Being a son of a rich family had he been alright, he would have become a grandfather. He would have lived for himself and all others. 

On children Day while I just returned after distributing stationery to the students in need that I saw Amish shouting in the corridor outside his room. His helpless silence could be traced in the form of anxiety of his eyes. 

“What has happened Amish?”

He went inside the room by crawling. I noticed Pant Ji breathing heavily while lying on his bed. I suddenly informed about him in the office through intercom. After opening the windows of the room, I started rubbing his feet. 

“Don't panic. Be bold.”

He received first aid after 10 minutes. After sometime Pant Ji could sleep. The anxiety I noticed in Amish’s eyes, was now calmed down.

I pondered over the incident, had I not reached in time today, had I not listened to the screaming of Amish, what would have happened! It becomes difficult for me to handle such kind of situations. 

That night I saw a dream. I was standing in front of a wooden cottage. The cottage was at a hill station. The window panes of the cottage were adorned with colourful glasses, reflecting circles of flickering lights of the dawning sun. I had knocked the locked door of the cottage. While I knocked, the smoke emitted from the crack at the door. It was like the damp smoke of some wet woods. The door opened. Someone held out his head. You Pant Ji! The dream broke as I woke up. Then I could not sleep till morning. Tossing and turning, what all I thought. I thought as if the being of somebody was blown out to create that smoke. As if someone was highly repentant. As if someone’s hopes were bounded inside those cracks. Pant Ji was now continuously ill. His anxiety about Amish kept on inclining.

Time kept on passing at its pace. The turn off the seasons, was also as usual, but it was Pant Ji’s condition that was not stable. Four days before Dussehra, last year, Pant Ji came there and now again it was the time of Dusshera.

The effigies of Ravana were burnt at the roof top of the elder care center and the sweets were distributed. This tradition of ages was followed ritualistically. One Ravana is being burnt and thousands of new are born in the society. 

Procuring the sweets of Dussehra and comics for all, I reached “Abhyansh”. Now the residents there had started to recognize me. The moment, I reached they assembled around me and tried to talk to me. Amidst all this tragedy and painful situations, they used to express their sensations and feelings through their body language. Their family members might have dropped them here, so they may get alright by living amongst the people like them. They all, who had been residing here, by paying high monthly fee, were a question for their family members. Analyzing the deepest layers to procure their personality facts and by undergoing psychological processes, doctors used to examine and cure them. All the instruments required for their treatment were available there. 

“Has someone ever returned back well at his home?” I inquired from Nalini Ji. To which Nalini Ji nodded her head in denial.

“It is such a big tragedy.”

Thinking this I returned home. 

Asha also came to celebrate Dussehra with Pant Ji and Amish.

Madan came with tea as I returned.

While pouring tea into the cup he said, “Dadi you look tired.” Along with the tea, he placed the plate of biscuits on the table and as daily he arranged for some hot water in the kettle. Along with water, he placed the medicine box at the table after opening it. Adding sugar free in my cup of tea he said, “Dadi Ji, the daughter of Pant Ji is here. She wants to meet you. She is asking to be informed, when you would be free.”

“Ok. Send her.”

After some time, Asha rang the bell. She opened the door and asked while coming inside. “How are you? I came to see you in the room earlier as well but it was locked.”

I made a gesture for Asha to sit down and said, “Yes, I went to “Abhyansh”.”

“That hermitage for the disabled.”

“Yes. Returning from there my heart is disturbed.”

“You are disturbed just by observing, we are tolerating such situations.”

“Yes, I can understand. I feel disheartened while looking at Amish. Your mother was indeed a brave woman. Till 60 years…” Asha was silent for a while. The colour of the sky darkened as observed from the corridor. At some places little stars could be traced.

“Sit comfortably Asha Ji. Won't you stay?”

“I will leave after serving dinner to Amish Bhaiya.”

“Is he elder to you?”

“Yes, he is eldest of all. Then two of us, the sisters. Our father has never cared for us. Mother handled it all. In the beginning Amish bhaiya used to be silent. Mother made him bath, clean and feed him with her own hands. He used to even ask for the books of his choice to read. Riding tricycle, he used to roam inside the colony. At that time, he was 12 years old. Slowly, his legs started getting infirm. He could no longer rotate the pedals of the cycle. He used to get much engrossed in the characters of the stories he read, that he used to laugh sometimes and cry at others. In the beginning it was not so predominant as it was now. Now his anger has been intensified. He breaks the things in his hand, by throwing them at the wall. If he is being stopped, he produces the goan… goan… sound till late. Sometimes this sound symbolizes scolding, other times of beseeching. My mother-in-law is bed ridden for 4 years. She does not permit keeping an attendant. I myself take care of everything. I change her diaper, massage her, make her bath, eat and give medicine. It is not a single job. Then taking care of Amish Bhaiya too. His case is in fact major than the case of my mother-in-law. Then too, after the death of my mother, I took his care for two years. Papa also used to live with me. But now I cannot manage anymore, Anamika ji. My husband's attitude has also undergone a change. He has started maintaining distance from me.”

Saying this, she started wiping the tears of her eyes. My heart empathized with Asha. 

“You took the required decision to keep Amish here. They care well.”

“But Papa is still not satisfied. He taunts me a lot. He in fact says, why has he given birth to the one, who has abandoned her own father.  He says, “You want to live joyously in your own world. Why would you be bothered for your father and brother?”

Discussing all this, she got deeply emotional. Tolerating blame from both the sides, her life has turned similar to Trishanku. While sympathizing I asked, “Should I discuss about it all, with your husband? His perspective may change, if I make him understand and he may allow Pant Ji to stay at his home.”

She got conscious. Her brown eyes in which the golden light of the settings Sun swam, suddenly douse off.

“No… no, Anamika Ji, don't do this. What do you think, haven't I tried? You tell can any problem be resolved just by pondering. Papa should also think about me.”

You are saying it alright Asha ji. But what can he do.”

“He is a man. Nothing is impossible for him. He can keep a chef in his bungalow. He can arrange for 24 hours servant. He can hire a nurse for the nursing of bhaiya. But he doesn't wish to do. This all caring and nursing he seeks from me. He does not say anything to Didi. She is actually beyond his approach”, saying this she was initially agitated, then weepy. I also found myself in trouble. What shall I say. This is their personal matter, but I am a social server. To solve their trouble is my responsibility.

Daringly I mentioned about “Abhyansh”, “Why don't you send Amish…”

“What do you say Anamika Ji”, pointing me out in between. she said, Will papa agree! He loves Amish bhaiya beyond his own life. He says, “The one whom I have embraced for 60 years, the one in whose pain I have molded myself, how can I send him in an ashram. I should be ashamed of myself.” Her words, silenced me. I could not place myself in the entangled life of Pant Ji. 

Returning from Abhyansh last night also, I could not sleep. Today also I kept on twisting and rolling. Noticing my eyes red, when Madan came in the morning he asked, “Are you alright, Dadi Ji?”

“I am alright Madan, what is in the breakfast today?”

“Idli sambar and chutney. Will you take coffee also in the breakfast? I nodded in affirmative. I inquired about Pant Ji and Amish. Madan told, “Last night Pant Ji got unwell.”

“Oh! What had happened?”

“He kept on thinking DadiJi, He is never happy and gets angry over everything. Health will ultimately be affected Dadi.”

“Okay you go.”

“Okay Dadi.”

After Madan left, I talked to Pant Ji on intercom. “What should I tell you now Anamika Ji. There is just one bed in the room. Whole night Amish keeps on twisting and rolling. My sleep gets disturb. They charge so much here, can't the provide me a separate bed? If sleep gets disturbed, the stomach also gets upset. Vomiting, Loose motions, high blood pressure and my breath gets heavy.”

“Take some rest I will come to you after a while.” “Okay.” he disconnected the intercom.

But I could not go to meet him that day, in fact the whole week. Some such tasks occurred, which made be busy. Madan told me about his wellbeing. That morning was surrounded with clouds, which were indicating rain. Pant Ji called me.

While entering in his room I said, “I ask for forgiveness. I could not come to meet you these days. How is your health?” He nodded his head in affirmation. He looked quite weak and lean. With his shaking hands, he hardcovered me a form and said, “This is the admission form for getting admitted in “Abhyansh”. Please fill it. My hands shivered while writing.”

“I was dumbstruck. Form for “Abhyansh”! Are you sending Amish there?”

“What should be done, my health is deteriorating day by day. Food doesn't get digested. The desire to live is dying. After me, Amish will become an orphan. By sending him at his correct place, I will die in relieve.”

Oh! such striking pain. The one whom he had not let go away his eyes for 60 years, he used to get agitated on the view of sending him in an ashram, saying, “My son is not an orphan, his father is yet alive.” Today he is forced to send him to “Abhyansh”.

My hands also trembled while filling the form.

“Take this and sign.”

“What is there in the signature. Asha will do it. My son in law will do it happily, as it will be now confirmed that they do not have to bear the responsibility of Amish.” He stumbled while saying this. I patted his back and requested him to lie down. He smiled slightly. While lying at his bed, he said, “Close the door I want to sleep.”

“Ok.”

In the morning Asha, Pant Ji’s son-in-law and two friends could be seen standing outside his room. So… Is Pant Ji…?

My guess was right. In some midnight hour, he took his last breath. His son-in-law was holding the form of Abhyansh in his hand. Amish continued his “Goan… Goan…” in full of tears.

Glossary:

1. Chutney: a thick sweet sauce that is made from fruit or vegetables.

2. Ashram: a place, where people who have withdrawn from society can live apart as a group; a religious retreat; a hermitage.

3. Thandai: a sweet Indian drink made from a milk base with ingredients such as almonds, saffron, and poppy seeds.

4. Samosa: a tringular savoury pastry fried in oil, containing spiced vegetables.

5. Chenna: fresh, unripened cheese that is a key ingredient in many Indian and Bengali sweets

6. Papad: A tasteful and crispy article of food.

7. Dusshera: a Hindu festival that celebrates the triumph of good over evil 

8. Ravana: the demon king of Lanka in the Hindu epic Ramayana. 

9. Trishanku: born Satyavrata, is a king of the Suryavamsha (Solar dynasty) featured in Hindu texts.

10. Idli Sambhar: a South Indian breakfast meal where soft fluffy steamed cakes known as idli are served with sambar, a vegetable lentil stew.

***

Heena Bindal works as an English Professor at DAV College Bathinda. She is an intensive reader of native literature and holds special interest in Translation Studies, Cultural Studies and Regional Literature. She works in whispering out the regional legacy of words and wonders to a wider range of readers through her story writing and translation.

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Setu, March 2025