Rear view

----Scribble-----------------------------

This is not an arrangement for winters to fall in love with women wearing red undergarments, neither is it a report on the infant mortality rates in Dantewada- SouthBastar.

Not to be precise, it has nothing to do with what Savitri’s father left for her before leaving for his seventh pilgrimage in the mid of a soaked rainy day; her mother was irrevocably sad.
In between, they were those same rogues from the Kaser Para who stole in to the courtyard before it just got dark enough to tell the roses from chrysanthemums. They were seven of them, about the same height and stature and even voices. Savitri for that matter had never been to differentiate anyone’s voice on the phone.

(Grandfather detested the phone just for this vice to it. On the days when he still had the strength to find his way into the street and knock Munshi’s door for an orgasmic vent of nostalgia, he laid out an elaborate plan for a rebellion against the Department of Telecommunications in the country. Munshi is believed to have perished under the burden of quoting the cost of the movement which by any chance had to be raised at the mercy of their sons and daughters)

“She is in” first voice
“He out” Second
“Pluck it”First
“Why was he called the father of the nation when its more like he’s the grandfather”Third
“Shut Up Tamboli”Second

Did Tamboli shut his mouth or not is a question of infinite importance for the story to continue. But for the time being readers have to console with a rather cryptic piece of information that 26 years later when Prof.Jambalendu Khotishi was to deliver a lecture on alternative agricultural practices at the University of Budapest, the student who repeatedly looked out of the window and winked his eyes 61 times a minute gestured him for a private talk.

“I need to talk to you”
“Talk” said the professor
“Not here…come with me”

“He actually had not kept his mouth shut” the nervous boy told after they journeyed to the other part of the city, far from the calm of a university, into a mesh of shops and lights.

“And why do you tell me that” the professor pretended not to look quizzed.
“Because Savitri had wanted it “
Professor knew that it was important to know about Savitri., but the students were waiting at the University, and the officials even, how embarrassed they must be feeling at the guests queries, after all those bespectacled oldies on the first row had managed to be there for his speech…But even hearing of Savitri was more important than other things…leave aside getting a path breaking information of her whereabouts…what does it matter that all this boy churns up here is trash…he seems to be uttering SAVITRI…what a solace in all these 26 years when he had been used to hear this word only in his voice…

“Savitri had wanted to undress Tamboli that night..Mishra Ji misunderstood the offer and then even the roses didn’t smell like roses, you know these hybrid types…the boy continued for exactly 3 hours 28 minutes.
Later that evening when Professor recounted the incident of meeting Savitri’s mitochondrial boy, he wept.