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Saturday, November 23, 2024

Golden Dreams and the Narrow Lane

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Harihar Khanal

We are supposed to wake up quite early in the morning, at around 5 o’clock. Else, you won’t be able to reach work on time. Radheshyam doesn’t like to attend his work later than the expected time. He thinks that is dereliction from duty. How is dereliction different from theft? He attempts to figure out the difference. In a way, both these acts are similar; just their names differ. This is how he thinks. He doesn’t, therefore, like any of these. He bears no grudge even if he has to wake up quite early. Half an hour he invests in cleaning and freshening himself. Before he is done with dressing, Shakuntala places a cup of hot tea on his table. Otherwise, he never thinks it right to shake up Shakuntala early on. As far as possible, he does everything himself. But Shakuntala finds no peace for herself until she has served him a cup of tea. It is an arduous task to apply oneself to work equally in summer and winter. But then, Radheshyam has a strange attachment to his work. Without any grudge, he commits himself to his duties diligently. 

In the morning, after he is done with three lectures at the Public Campus, he frees himself from his first duty of the day. At 9, he reaches home and takes rest for a while. This is the third year since Raju—his son—started attending school. Both Radheshyam and Shakuntala cherish the sight of their son moving out of home for school, neatly dressed in his uniform. At times, the young daughter Srijana follows her brother, trying to go to school, but then, she is just three and will have to wait for a few more months before she leaves her mother’s lap and walks away to school. Raju, however, has past that age now and is a perfect schoolboy. He has cleared the nursery and lower kindergarten; he is in the first grade and is enjoying the class even more. More than anything else, he loves his friends and the environment at the school. For these reasons perhaps, he is always impatient to go to school. 

During the day, Radheshyam teaches at a government college. For evening, he has been just appointed to teach to masters’ level students at a pubic campus in the vicinity.  After a hectic engagement with his teaching, he returns home in the evening long after sunset. He is extremely careful about his work, duty and habits. Though he walks a distance of four kilometers from the college to home, he has no record of arriving home late in the evening. 

Shakuntala takes care of their home. Radheshyam works without and manages the family expenses. He is highly educated, while Shakuntala could not continue after clearing her intermediate. A well-grown lass she was. In Radheshyam, her parents found a befitting suitor and did not hesitate to give her away, when the proposal came. Soon after marriage, the responsibility of handling the domestic affairs fell upon Shakuntala’s hands. This led to the disruption of her study. 

Radheshyam is a talented man, quite different from his friends. For these reasons perhaps, Shakuntala is quite contented to be a part of his life, though, for a long time in the past, the partnership had forced unexpected twists in her life. 

But these episodes of hardships are tales of the old good days. Days thereafter have been marked by the arrival of children and other domestic responsibilities. Shakuntala is the one who drives the family chariot in her own accord. Radheshyam is just an Arjun, committed to his own dutiful affairs. 

The couple has a small home, a little patch of land for farming, and a small family. Radheshyam holds a job; he is in a prestigious occupation. Everyone in the village and neighborhood look at him with high honor. As people had expected, the couple has carved out a sweet, cute and small family. Their family is an icon of happiness for themselves and for others. They are quite affluent, for the simple reason that they have limited desires, and are contented with the little they had. 

**

One evening, Radheshyam returned home later than on other days. 

Since he was late, Shakuntala had, for quite a long time, been looking for his ways. For long, there was no hint of his coming. On other days, before it was 7, the front-yard used to resound with his motorcycle’s sound. But this evening, the noise was missing. Since Shakuntala was quite adept in hearing news of road mishaps, a deep chill passed down her spine, fearing if something similar had happened with Radheshyam. But then, she was composed thinking that Radhesyam was not a reckless rider. She consoled herself. 

It was nearing 9 o’clock in the evening. Both Raju and Srijana have slept long back. Shakuntala had stuck herself to the television to pass time. Though her eyes were on the television screen, her mind hovered around Radheshyam. 

A bright light, far away in the lane outside, drew her eyes all of a sudden. When the light was quite near, it stopped in her front-yard. This brought peace to her impatient heart. 

“Where were you stuck till so late?” she asked, looking straight on his face, before he had alighted from his bike.  

“It sometimes happens, in the course of business,” he said, pushing the bike towards the garage. Shakuntala continued her babble, though in a heartfelt intimacy. 

“There are hopes. It seems, my task will be accomplished. I met the man today,” said Radhesyam over dinner.

“Which task?” said Shakuntala, getting no hint of the affair. 

“The same—HSMP affair.  What else?” said Radhesyam, throwing a slight clue. “He happened to be an agent from Tanahun region. They said, he is a reliable guy; he is a man of words and does things when he receives cash.” 

HSMP, meant Highly Skilled Manpower. For quite sometimes, young men, including the highly educated ones, had been abandoning their good and highly-paying jobs, and getting in line to sneak into the United Kingdom, the heaven of their imagination, for work. Though Radheshyam was quite reluctant in the beginning, his friends’ pestering changed his mind, and now he too was in the race. In fact, he had slightly expressed his mind with Shakuntala casually a few days earlier. 

Now since the issue came repeatedly, she knew what Radheshyam was seriously up to. She started calculating how she would carry the domestic affairs on her own. To a great extent, she was quite afraid too. 

“Leave it. It’s worthless going to the foreigner’s land. We are happy here,” she even suggested in an alarmed tone. 

“Oh God, you sound as though I were starting off this very moment. The first thing is, this is just my initial attempt. There is a long way to go, before it happens. Delhi is quite far, as they say. Do not be panicked.” Radhesyam tried to convince Shakuntala. 

If a man plans seriously, he will make every attempt to fulfill it. Though he tried to tranquilize Shakuntala with one excuse or the other, he ultimately accomplished his desire. After he had handed over one hundred and fifty thousand rupees—the cash they had saved with rampant compromise on the basics—to the agent, green light shone on Radheshyam’s path. The visa section of the British Embassy in Kathmandu informed him that he had been granted the permissions. The news brought great satisfaction to Radheshyam.

After acquiring the visa, Radheshyam returned home and tried to convince Shakuntala from many angles. He shared with her golden dreams that could deck their lives, once he was in the dreamland. Among his dreams were a beautiful house, a car and a sound bank balance after he returns to Kathmandu in a few years. And life, after that, would be a bed of roses, he assured. 

Though she was quite careful not be swayed away by such dreams, the seriousness in her husband tickled her from within, and she started cherishing those dreams. The dream of affording good education to her children and having a secured future for herself made Shakuntala smile with hopes. 

The next evening, a tempo plying along that route stopped outside the house, and Radheshyam came out of it. “Where’s the bike?” asked Shakuntala. 

“It’s of no use now. I gave it away,” said Radheshyam, seemingly quite happy. 

“To whom? Why?” 

“I sold it. What use is it now? I am going, you know,” he said quite nonchalantly. Shakuntala felt, something very dear had been lost. Her mind stirred from within. There were strange emotions rippling on her countenance. 

Though Shakuntala still appeared quite reserved in the entire affair, dreams of hope had starting sprouting inside her mind too. Therefore, in spite of certain doubts here and there, she had started wishing her husband to go and try his luck once. After all, those many exercises had been undertaken and stopping him would be of no worth now. 

Yet, she was quite upset this evening, after the bike was gone. Compared to other days, they had less exchange of words. Their facial expressions had grown discernibly odd. Radheshyam engaged himself in managing the papers left helter-skelter in the drawers of his table and cupboard. Shakuntala observed his activities, sitting on one edge of the cot. While he was busy, Shakuntala was musing on how she would manage the family while he was away. She had no means to stop her husband, who had already lifted his first step for the exit. She didn’t, therefore, think it wise to express her reservations and hurt him. Swaying between choices and dilemma, tired Shakuntala threw herself on the bed and took a deep sigh of frustration. 

**

Every arrangement was accomplished. Finally, the day of departure came. As the day approached, the couple’s mind grew even more restless. Though they were both victims of whirlwind inside, they had not expressed the same to one another. Raju and Srijana too were decidedly unhappy. Radheshyam tried to console the kids by giving some money and sweets. 

At the stoke of the parting hour, when the husband was leaving, Shakuntala shed a few drops of tears. Radheshyam could not help himself, and so, he let down a gush of tears too. He could not resist the flow, when he saw Shakuntala breaking down. Then they waved to one another mentally, and Radheshyam moved away from his family. 

At 8 o’clock in the evening, the aircraft left the runway at the airport and flew away through the dark night. It took its flight through the thick darkness of the sky, at which, Radheshyam thought, he too was squeezing through darkness, not knowing whither he was heading. Yet, the flight continued. 

The next morning, at 7 o’clock local time, he alighted at the Gatwick International Airport, UK. In the juvenile sun of the morning, the sky in the United Kingdom looked quite clear. Clearing through the immigration formalities, he exited through the arrival gate, and entered a big waiting hall. On its right lounge, people impatient to receive their near ones, sat with their expectant eyes fixed on the exit. He too looked around, expecting if any face familiar to him was waiting for him too. But then, in that strange part of the world, he saw no one awaiting his arrival. 

He remembered Surendra, one of his friends who was in the UK. It would be a great experience, if in the midst of those strangers, he was somewhere there, waiting for him. 

‘If I had informed him about my arrival, he would have come,’ he thought, as bitter sensations rippled inside his melancholy heart. 

‘I was stupid,’ he said to himself. ‘I should have informed at least someone, if I was coming to an unknown land,’ he thought. 

People were coming. People were going. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do or where to go. In a corner of his pocket diary, he had written Surendra’s contact number. Seeing a Nepali woman who had come to receive her relative, some strands of hope arose in him. He went near to her, and introducing himself, pleaded her to help him find Surendra. After a brief conversation, the woman dialed Surendra from her cell phone. 

“Yes please, Surendra speaking,” said the receiver. 

“Hello Surendra. Me Radheshyam speaking,” said Radheshyam in a tone of extreme intimacy. 

“Radheshyam? Who’s that?”

“Your friend, Radheshyam. Forgot? I have just arrived from Nepal. I am at Gatwick Airport.” 

Surendra got it. A few days back, in one of their conversations, Radheshyam had told Surendra about his processes for the migration. Surendra was in a way taken aback to receive such a call from inside the UK. 

“That’s great. You’re welcome to the United Kingdom.” Surendra executed the formalities. 

“Can you come to receive me please? I am confused. Where are you?” said Radhesyam, requesting. Surendra was quite disturbed. Yet, he was bound to reply. Radheshyam pressed the cell even more tightly against his ears. 

“That’s not possible, Radheshyam. You should have told me in advance after your day was fixed. You are telling me to come this moment, all of a sudden. I am at Oimlie, in the western part of Central London. It’s not less than two-and-half hour’s drive from there. So, it’s impossible. Any way. Catch a train and come. I will wait for you at the Victoria Station. Call me once you arrive there.” Surendra gave the instructions. 

Radhesyam was at loss. But he had no means other than the one Surendra had suggested. Anyhow, he came out of the Gatwick Airport Terminal and waited for the train. 

Everyone was new to Radheshyam, who was in London for the first time in life. He found life and ways quite different from what he had imagined. He was suffocated to a great extent. At the platform, he saw people buying tickets from an automatic machine. He made some brief inquiries, and followed the suit. After the ticket was inserted into a hall at the gate, the door of the train opened, and he sneaked into it. 

** 

Leaving behind green fields of grass, green trees and plants, villages with thickly built houses at places,  and pressing though the blue sky clear from horizon to horizon, the train finally stopped at the gate number 16 of the Victoria Station after a journey of two hours.  Joining the band of other passengers, he ended the pleasurable journey and came down on the platform. 

For quite sometime, he looked at nooks and corner of the strange place, feeling quite confused and awkward. Soon his eyes caught the sight of Surendra, who was approaching him from the opposite direction. His face lit up with joy. When their eyes met, the hearts of both leaped up, and they embraced one another. 

After moving out of the platform, Surendra moved towards his car that stood in the parking area. Radheshyam followed every step of his friend. When they were very near to the car, Surendra pressed the bottom of a remote sensor and the car’s door opened. He then sat on the driver’s seat and asked Radheshyam to sit on the rear. The air-conditioned car was quite luxurious. 

Radheshyam tried to adjust with the strange environment where everything was new. Surendra drove his gray Mercedes Benz through Central London. 

Radheshyam was beside himself, seeing the real picture of England that looked like a boot on the map, off the English Channel, with its clean and wide roads, similar houses in the settlement areas, allies that largely remained silent, large and green parks that appeared at intervals etc. 

Within his stay of a few days as Surendra’s guest, Radheshyam found London quite different from Nepal. There was no smoke in the air, and no crowd of people anywhere. No noise ever broke anyone’s peace. Everything there was quite different. 

** 

Surendra returned home quite late, everyday. Soon after, he would switch his computer on, and sit down to work. When he felt like eating, he opened the fridge and set the ready-made food in the microwave oven, ate with a drink of his choice, and returned to work on the computer. By the time he went to bed, half the night usually got over. Radheshyam, by then, would have slumbered quite long, and have trespassed many lanes of dream. 

After some four or five days, Radheshyam’s fatigue disappeared completely. In the first initial days, he always felt that something was wrong with him. He would doze off while the sun was still shining in the mid sky. In the morning, however, he woke up earlier than Surendra. Surendra slept till late in the morning, and woke up only at around 10 o’ clock. He would then freshen himself up, take his breakfast, and ride his car across the town to work. 

Sunday was his day off. So, he would rest all day long. Often for holidaying, he used to go to the seaside. One Sunday morning, he proposed to take Radheshyam on a ride to the seaside. 

Slithering through the thickly settled region across the outer fringe of Central London, their car joined a caravan of cars that plied like a river on the wide, smooth road. They drove past green fields, small hamlets that looked like towns, forests with thick, green undergrowth and many, many other things that appeared along the road. After a drive of around three hours, they arrived at Briton, where Surendra stopped his car. 

The blue sea was rippling on the surface of the earth with water filling it to the brim. That was the first time Radheshyam had seen a sea in all his life. He was enchanted by the beauty of the blue sea. On its bank were half-naked men and women, nonchalantly basking in the sun. Their dress and demeanor were such that looking directly at them was rather an awkward act. Seeing it all, Radheshyam experienced a strange sort of uneasiness. But that was a place where one seldom cared about what others did or wore. He also tried to take things normally. 

** 

“Surendra, I must thank you for the accommodations you have been allowing me here. But brother, you know well why I left my family and kids and came all the way to London, some seven seas across. How along can I continue as your guest?” Radheshyam said, finding Surendra in leisure after many days. 

“Look, Radheshyam. You didn’t initially believe what I suggested. You came anyway, and I had to do what I could. It is however wrong on your part to think that pound sterlings grow on trees in the UK. I had told you not to abandon your existing job. But you took me wrongly and thought, I was trying to bar your way hither. You said, you would love to be here at least to see this country. Now, you have come here and have seen what London has got to show. You are a professor I know, but  your professorship doesn’t count here. There are many people here, like you. Everyone here is bound to take up manual work, and that too is not available easily. If you would agree to take up one of such jobs, I can look for one for you.” Surendra gave a long lecture, as he fixed his eyes on Radheshyam’s face. Surendra started feeling suffocated, as though he were a lemon caught between the jaws of a squeezer. 

No matter what he talked in leisure, Surendra always appeared different while at work. He woke up in right time, finished his homely core in time, and left for work in perfect hour. Seeing him manage his time in a strict schedule, Radheshyam too had started realizing how people cared for time in the United Kingdom. Before he finished making an utterance, Surendra dresses himself up, and hurries out to start his car. With his exit started Radheshyam’s lonesome life, something so mechanical like the hand of a clock. Seeing and bearing all these, Radheshyam had, of late, started growing quite worked up. 

**

“When hungry, you can prepare food yourself,” said Surendra to his guest Radheshyam, showing him the store, and the food preserved in the fridge. 

Life has become quite mechanical for Radheshyam. There’s nothing to do. He has been a guest at his friend’s. Wake up, eat and go to bed: these are the only works he does. His friend cum host does nothing but rush to work, when his hour calls. At home too, he is either glued to his computer, or to the television. If called, he responds, though he shows no annoyance. Radheshyam, however, has nothing to do; so he remains alone most of the time. 

From one perspective, Radheshyam is at ease too. His friend Surendra, who entered UK some twenty years ago, has become its citizen now. His wife and children are in the UK as well. He is quite well-off. He has a home of his own, besides wife, and children. The children have holidays now, and so, they are in Nepal with their mother to visit their ancestral place. Surendra has stayed back to manage the affairs. He runs the restaurant. 

Back then, soon after arriving in the UK, the first job Surendra had taken up was winding a mill at the restaurant of an Indian businessman. In a few years, he gathered proficiency in the work. By then, he had saved some bucks too. He applied for work permit, and procured it. The same, in the long run, turned out to be his means to stay back in the UK permanently. The skill he had earned while working as a labor at someone’s restaurant propelled him to go for similar business. He has, therefore, continued to do the same job, though at present he is himself the owner of it. 

Once out of home at 10 o’clock in the morning, Surendra does not return before midnight. By the time he is back, Radheshyam is usually in deep sleep. He wakes up before the faintest light of daybreak has descended on the earth. He looks around and sees that the environment is quite listless. He peeps out off the window; the road looks quite desolate. On both sides of the road, personal vehicles are parked in a row. Nearby, there is a big apartment. Perhaps, in each of its flats, people are expanding their families. Yet, from without, it looks equally desolate. 

Radheshyam has grown tired of lazing without work. Surendra’s living room is furnished with a big Philips television. He presses the button of the remote sensor to push the listless time ahead. BBC alone runs many channels: news channel, entertainment channel, parliament channel etc. There are numerous other television channels too. But none of them keeps his mind absorbed for long. 

**

One evening, Radheshyam bought a home-calling card and called his family back in Nepal. Raju and Srijana had retired to bed. Shakuntala too was preparing to rest. In the beginning they had casual exchanges. As they continued, their throats were chocked. Shakuntala even started sniveling. 

“Come; return home. How long will you stay jobless? Nothing has gone wrong, till now. We have a home here; we have land too. Hope your service has not been terminated. We’ll share joy and sorrow together, and if need be, we’ll die together.” Shakuntala tried to persuade Radheshyam. He was partly convinced, but couldn’t think about returning immediately. His mind, however, was badly stirred. He had a wonderful job in Nepal, before he went to the UK. He taught at three places. He had abandoned all those, and following an uncertain dream, sneaked into a dark alley of uncertainties. He knew every detail of his village. He knew about its people, their behavior and their ways of life. He knew how they enjoyed, if they could gossip about someone’s failure.  He knew that if he returned, the villagers would banter: “He had gone to catch a marlin, but returned home with a bone.” 

Since Surendra was one of his best friends, Radheshyam had not, so far, experienced any difficulty of staying. He had lovingly said, “You can feel free here, until you get a job. After you get work, we will think of options.”

But, how long could Radheshyam continue at Surendra’s?  After sometimes, Surendra’s family would return from Nepal tour. After that, obviously, his stay would not be as easy and free going as it was now. This realization stirred Radhesyam even more. Is staying, eating and sleeping the only works in life? He started contemplating seriously. Considering what he had hoped before coming, and what he was actually reaping out there, he grew quite upset. 

Tired of remaining indoor, Radhesham came out of the room to freshen himself. After walking for five minutes, he came to the gate of a park: Newton Ecological Garden. Along the gate, he could see a board. On its left side was a thick undergrowth, and there he could see a grove of blackberries. A few yards further were apple trees, laden with ripe fruits. Some yards ahead, there was a small children’s park , beyond which, in a large stretch of land, he could see a nursery of various flower and fruit saplings. In between them was a green house with a two-sloped roof. But strangely enough, inside such a huge edifice, no human being could be spotted anywhere. One could see a few birds, flying from one branch to another. That’s all. Nothing else was seen. Completely desolate. Radhesyam was even more distressed to stay there for long. 

A few minutes after he had reached there, Radheshyam saw a British youth coming that way. He was busy in his own ways, and therefore, he didn’t look left or right. Radheshaym was even more frustrated to see the listless lifestyle, courtesy and culture of the people there. If it were in his village, a passerby would find some pretext to speak to him before taking his way. Where was such intimacy here? He was quite worked up, seeing the style of life people had in the UK. 

**

As ever, Surendra returned home at the usual time. Whenever he did so, he would often find Radheshyam sleeping carelessly in his bed, but today, he was seen busy on his computer, looking for job advertisements. Surendra scanned his face and tried to decipher the state of his psyche. After a short scrutiny, he instantly made it out that he was off his moods today. 

Coming out fresh from the bathroom, Surendra entered the kitchen and took some friend prawns, peanuts and some varieties of chicken as he entered the living room. 

“Come my friend; let’s get high tonight. I have arranged to stay off my duty for tomorrow. We can go around some good place. Today, I have returned home with some ideas about your future.”

Surendra, who was otherwise quite introvert, had opened up this much, today. Radheshyam was not finding any of those words attractive. In a way, he bore a sense of frustration with all of those assurances. But, since it was not possible for him to pay deaf ears to Surendra, he sat down meekly and listened. Soon both of them got busy, eating and drinking. 

“Surendra, you gave me shelter in this strange land, seven seas across. I thank you for all the pains you took for me. But then, how long can I stay as a refugee at yours? I must, at all cost, find some kind of work.” Radheshyam opened himself up, as alcohol had started having its effect, albeit partially, on him. 

After hearing his say, Surendra rejoined, “Look, Radheshyam! You are  a professor, and not an ordinary human being. You must not, therefore, take up any ordinary job. But then, it is not possible to find a job that befits your qualifications. If you will be content with any type of job, I will find one for you tomorrow itself,” said Surendra, without slightest degree of hesitation. 

Surendra’s words engendered a ray of hope in Radheshyam’s heart. But he was not ready to take up any job that would come along his way. Still, he managed to ask, “What do you mean by any job?”

“I have slightly briefed an Indian restaurant about your case. If you are willing, I will confirm it tomorrow,” said Surendra, trying to test his resolution. He partly thought, he would take the job, for, death was better than madness. Yet, the ego of an educated man inside him disproved of this option. In fact, he had never seen a tiger munching grass. His mind, caught between the extremes of having and not having, decided to abandon the option. 

“Can there be anything besides this job?” he asked, staring at Surendra. 

“Would you go for the security services? Even if you would, you will be required to take emergency training, and before joining the job, you must have taken a personal identification number (PIN). You will take a long time before you adjust with the British society here.” This time Surendra sounded more liberal than on other days. 

The next day, Surendra took Radheshyam to show him Central London. On an underground train, they came to the Hide Park Station. Coming out of the station, they passed though tunnels that looked like a rat’s hole and walking left and right, got onto an electric escalator, which brought them out to the open. To their right, they saw a huge plain, that looked quite neat, as though it has just been swept clean. Across its centre, there ran smooth roads that stretched from one end of the plain to another.  Groups of people, enjoying their vacations were seen moving along those roads. Surendra and Radheshyam too joined the crowd, and entered the Park. 

After walking for around fifteen minutes, they reached the north-eastern corner of the Park. Surendra pointed towards a road just lain with pebbles, and showed his friend the Speaker’s Corner. Out of it, they headed towards the Buckingham Palace. All along their ways, Radheshyam experienced a whirlwind tormenting his mind. 

Outside the Palace of Queen Elizabeth, they took some snapshots at the square, besides the fountain. Then they headed towards Saint James Park. 

Inside and on the bank of a small, rectangular pond in the middle of the Park, they saw a variety of ducks playing together. People were delightfully enjoying the playful pastime of those beautiful gifts of nature. Some tourists were trying to cage the sight into the cameras. When the duo were in the middle of the Park, they stopped and looked back for a while. The Buckingham Place, in its brown hue, looked immensely beautiful. Then they turned east. On the eastern bank of Thames, the London Eye moved lazily on its own accord. 

Once out of the St. John’s Park, they reached the Trafalgar Square and passed some time. Thereafter, they headed towards London Bridge, along the 10-Downing Square Road. At a distance to its east was the Tower Bridge, while the Parliament Street lay stretching on its western side. The Thames ran midway from it, franked by gigantic buildings standing on both its banks. In the meantime, the duo saw a large white liner named Queen Elizabeth Sailing Museum floating on the western edge of the Thames. Many other ships with open roofs too sailed across the water, with curious tourists on board. 

** 

A month and its half slipped away, and in whole course of this time, Radheshyam experienced nothing but restlessness and anxiety. He had learnt beyond confusions, that London was a dreamland to most of the aspirant visitors, but for himself, it was nothing formidable. To him, instead, his own family, its members, friends and relatives and his native place seemed far more dearer. This sense of nostalgia would often recur and tickle his mind. Moreover, he had learnt from Surendra that the latter’s family was soon ending up its Nepal trip and returning to London within a few days. He made it out, that his future days in London would not be so easy. After deep contemplations, he resolved that he should now return to Nepal. He called the ticketing agent to confirm his return tickets. 

*

One day, Surendra returned earlier than usual. He saw that Radheshyam had readied his luggage. The preparations took him by surprise. 

“What’s up, Radheshyam?” he asked, quite amazed. 

“I am done with London, Suren. I am returning. If you can, drop me to the airport.”

A sudden quiver chocked him, and he couldn’t speak. Yet, his resolution was quite strong. He continued albeit in an emotional tone: “I would rather die in my own land, sharing joy and sorrow with my family. I have no more fascination with the luxury here. More than such sophistication, I love the simplicity of my village. I am leaving this forlorn environment and dazzling grandeur back here.” 

Surendra sensed, Radheshyam was quite cool and composed. 

Before Radheshyam entered through the departure gate of the Heathrow Airport, the friends embraced one another. Tears stole their ways out of Surendra’s eyes all of a sudden. Radheshyam could not control himself either. His countenance, lit up by the prospects of going home till a few seconds ago, was suddenly overcast by the gloom of valediction. He eyes watered to their brims. He used all his might to control them, and pulled himself in, towards the Emigration Section of the Airport, waving his hand. 

At around 10 o’clock in the night, the Boeing belonging to the Qatar Airways took off and headed south-east, cutting across the tranquil London sky. 

English Translation: Mahesh Paudyal

[Harihar Khanal (b. 1946) is a Nepali poet, novelist and storywriter of high repute. A professor of English by profession, his published works include several books of poems, stories, essays and a few novels. He also holds the credit of translating the biography of Maxim Gorky into Nepali. For a brief time, he also edited Garima, a premier Nepali literary periodical, published by  Sajha Publication. This story is from Golden Dreams and the Narrow Lane, a collection published in English translation recently.]

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