Thou shalt not snitch: Mohan’s story
Swati Pal
Once there was a boy called Mohan. He was called Divakar at school and Mohan at home. Divakar means the Sun, and Mohan is one of the many names of Lord Krishna, known for his delightfully mischievous and loving ways as a child. Divakar’s sunny smile could illuminate the world, and he was as loving as Mohan or Lord Krishna.
Mohan was good at studies, better at excitingly communicating things, and best at athletics! He could be so entertaining that everyone smiled when he entered a room! He was quite the centre of attention.
Divakar pursued Engineering and
went to Bhubaneswar to study Electronics and Telecommunication. He made friends
quickly. He loved to play basketball and football when he found time from his
studies.
One early August evening, when his mom was getting ready for a birthday party she got a call from one of Divakar’s friends. He said, “Aunty, nothing to worry, Divakar has had an accident, and we have brought him to the hospital. It’s very minor, only a cut on his finger.”
She spoke to Divakar, and he repeated the story, saying it was nothing serious, but he added that he wanted to come home to Delhi.
She said, “If it’s only a cut on the finger, why do you want to come home?” She asked to speak to the doctor, who had obviously been instructed not to give her the whole truth.
He hemmed and hawed for a bit and then said, “Well, it’s nothing serious. Just a bit of a bone loss”.
The words ‘bone loss’ completely shook mom. She realized that he needed to come home.
He flew back with a drawn face
but with a smile on it. His right hand had a thick bandage around his middle
finger. He said he had been given a couple of shots and painkillers.
As they went to the hospital, Divakar had only one instruction for his mother, “You are not to see when the bandage is opened.”
She wondered why he was fussing. A little later, however, when the bandage was opened, and she saw the look on the doctor’s face, she realized it was pretty bad. She saw that the top segment of his finger had been sliced off. It was a bloody mess. She almost fainted but Divakar still had a smile, albeit pained. The effect of the painkillers had obviously worn off. It was decided that the wound would have to be closed with grafting as the exposed bone was liable to be infected. The grafting took place and then followed a harrowing time of constant excruciating pain. Slowly the pain receded.
When everyone asked Divakar how he had managed to injure himself, he said that he had slipped on pigeon poop in the corridor outside his room which he didn’t see as he was trying to open the door. His hand came in between, and his finger got stuck. It was an automatic door and the finger just got sliced off. Everyone was told the same thing. And he got scolded terribly for his carelessness and impatience!
But after this, for some time, Divakar was not the same boy. He would keep looking at his disfigured finger. He lost the chance to join the National Cadet Corps as he missed the trials. He lost the chance to join the basketball team that year as he was not allowed to play with an injured hand.
He lost his laugh too.
His mother tried hard to help him cope and made him learn car driving. That helped a bit. It restored some self-esteem. But he was still depressed.
And then one day when he was wondering aloud what he should do with his time since he was not allowed to play basketball, she suggested two things.
She said, “Why don’t you focus now on football? You would not need to use your hand much. Also, why don’t you try to participate in the Mock UN Parliamentary debate that your university organizes? You are a good speaker and have great political sense.”
Divakar thought for a bit and then said, “Okay, am going to kill this, I am going to be the best speaker and am going to be goalkeeper for the football team.”
Divakar got selected for the University team in a few months. His friends remember to this day how he stubbornly insisted on practicing despite them objecting as they were nervous about his injury. They recall that when the ball would come hurtling, he would save the goal with his head, smiling all the while. It inspired them all to perform well and that’s how Divakar got selected in the team. As for the Mock UN Debate, he was a mesmerizing speaker! He performed fabulously. He was back to being the Divakar everyone knew!
The finger accident became a thing of the past and was only used to warn Divakar when it was feared that he may do something careless.
Divakar had a major accident two years later. His parents rushed to him. Divakar’s friends were all there in the hospital and busy talking about Divakar. Mom and dad only half listened but then, one of them said something that made Divakar’s mom sit up.
He said, “Divakar is the best guy I have ever known. In spite of the fact that I was responsible for the injury to his finger, he has never held a grudge against me and in fact HE would console me.”
Mom walked up to the child and asked him to explain. He said, “Aunty, I mistakenly slammed the door on Divakar’s hand which led to the partial loss of his finger. Divakar used to be depressed and I would try to apologize but he would hear none of it. He would always tell me that it was not my fault.”
It was unbelievable. Through all that pain and depression, through all the scolding that Divakar got, he never ever snitched about his friend. He had been told as a child that we must never snitch about our loved ones. If Divakar’s friend had not inadvertently let slip the truth behind the injury to his finger, it would never have been known.
Divakar’s friends call him Diva in short and yeah, he really is.
Bio Note: Swati Pal (known more as Mohan’s Mommy, a title I simply love)
Swati Pal, Professor and Principal, Janki Devi Memorial College, University of Delhi, has been a Charles Wallace and John McGrath Theatre Studies Scholar. Author of several books on theatre, creative and academic writing, her newspaper articles articulate her views on education. Her areas of research interest include performance studies and cultural history. She translates from Hindi to English. She writes poetry and her poems appear in several anthologies as also a collection entitled In Absentia and an edited volume called Living on. She is the Vice Chair of the Indian Association for Commonwealth Literature and Language Studies and has been the recipient of several awards.
