Special Edition: Hema Ravi

Hema Ravi

Elephant on the track (Prose)

The evening rays of the summer sun shone and brightened the entire landscape.  A sudden cloud brought along a passing shower, uncommon at that time of the year.  However, within seconds, the rain stopped, and it became warm once again. 

 Since it was an unplanned journey, Pooja had to sit in the unreserved compartment along with a host of unfamiliar passengers;  perhaps one of them was a tribal too, she mused. She sat as comfortably as possible on the rickety seat.  The train journey was about 2 hours or more;  she could then reach her home in the village by bus from the station.  

There was a middle-aged man with a fat paunch who didn’t seem threatening. A large family, oblivious to the presence of others, was garrulously exchanging words.

Beside Pooja was a young dark-skinned girl with cropped hair, a red cap on her head with the letters USA embossed on it.  She was seated comfortably and appeared to be enjoying the scenes outside.  Pooja wondered what the purpose of the girl’s visit to this country was.  Unable to control her curiosity, she leaned towards the girl and said with a smile:  “Your folder says Emma Watson, Student of Anthropology.” 

“I know very little about the subject, although I taught English at Ranchi University for a while.  I do know it is the study of human societies, cultures, and evolution. “

 The girl’s eyes lit up.  She mentioned she had stayed at Ranchi University for about a week. She had come down to gain knowledge and insights into the lives of some rehabilitated tribals.  

“My professor had visited the place a few years ago and wants more research to be done  on these indigenous tribes.” 

“This is my first visit to India, and I’m a little nervous.” 

Pooja said, “Yes, every country has its positives and negatives.  One has got to be careful, find the right people to interact with...”

“Did you manage to get any references from the University?”

“Yes!” 

Before Pooja could speak more, Emma enquired,  “Are you on a business trip, or a holiday?”

“Well,” Pooja replied. I’m visiting my ailing aunt in Latemda.  It’s been years now. Professional demands, familial commitments, and others kept me away. My parents used to live there, and my growing-up years were spent there until I was sent to a boarding school in Patna. My parents passed away in quick succession during the pandemic. Since then, my visits to Latemda have reduced to about twice a year.”

“Do you like it there?” asked Emma.  

“Yes, of course.  I try to stay connected to my roots… My father was a farmer, contented and hardworking; my mother, a devoted homemaker.” 

“I lost them both during the pandemic.” 

“They used to visit Ranchi once a year, check on my well-being, and pass on some money to my uncle, who was my local guardian.   After college, at their insistence, I got married to my uncle’s son, who works in a large factory in Ranchi.  It was my husband who encouraged me to study and pursue a professional career, which I did.”

“Do tell me about yourself, if you feel I am not intruding…” Pooja prodded gently.

Emma spoke briefly about her family.  Her parents had migrated to the USA when she was a child, and her schooling and undergraduate studies were in Florida. After her graduation,  she began pursuing a master’s degree, and that was when she met Prof. Wilbur, who persuaded her to continue her research on the ethnic tribes of Jharkhand.

“I’m truly excited to know more about your research and your subject of study,” Pooja expressed in an earnest voice.  

They were conversing softly, munching on some homemade snacks that Pooja had brought along. Suddenly, there was a loud screech of brakes, and the train came to a grinding halt.

The driver had got information from a local about an elephant, which was in labour on the railway track, about a kilometre away. The pachyderm had been there for nearly two hours.  The train wouldn’t move until the mother left with her calf. The villager went into one compartment after another, conveyed the news to the passengers, and requested them to be patient. He urged people not to get off the train and scare the animal or cause any harm to it.  

Pooja gave him a bunch of bananas, and a few other passengers too did so… she said he could take it up to the distressed animal, if he chose to do so.

“How nice it would be if  I could click some pics,”  Emma squealed, even as she showered words of appreciation for the local and the driver for letting the animal lie undisturbed until it delivered its calf.

Some of the passengers got restless and tried to get off the train, but a handful of locals who had gathered outside shoved them back, saying, “Pareshaan mat karo!” (Don’t disturb!)

Pooja was worried she would miss the village bus, which she and Emma had to take to go to the village.  Coincidentally, Emma was going up to the same village to meet Shruti Munda, who had moved into a village home very recently.  Pooja was dying to know more about Shruti.

Emma sat calmly and started reading something.  Pooja became restless and began fidgeting with her fingers; she was sweating too, as the sun had disappeared behind the clouds, and the moon was rising – a voluptuous moon!

To her disbelief and surprise, the train began to chug forward.  All the passengers cheered in glee. 

One of the locals who came into their compartment said: “Aap ma aur bachda ko us side mein dekh sakthein…” Hearing this, all the passengers rushed towards the windows to catch a glimpse of the duo.  Emma got up too, and as the train passed by slowly, she videographed the entire scene.  

“There they are, Emma squealed.”  “It’s too surreal to be true…”

***

Guru Purnima (Poem)

Through the looking glass

I caught a glimpse of the ochre.

Such an incredible sight, how I 

long to be up there…

If I can cast off these earthly bounds

Climb atop the high-rise edifices

And get hold of you -  Silvery Quiet!

The cab whizzes past.

You’ve vanished again… 

***

Hema Ravi is a poet, author, reviewer, editor (Efflorescence), event organizer, and independent researcher. 

Her poems, short stories, travelogues, and articles have been featured in reputed international journals.  She is the author of Joie De Vivre, The Cuckoo Sings Again, Everyday English, and ‘Write Right Handwriting Series 1,2,3. Writing, she believes, is therapeutic…there is always a story out in the open, if one keeps the eyes and ears open.

Hema is a freelancer for IELTS, Communicative English & Soft Skills.  As the Secretary of Chennai Poets’ Circle, she empowers poet-aspirants to unleash their creative potential effectively.

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Setu, July 2025