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JAGGA - A story
JAGGA
Jagga pressed the starter switch of the tube-well; with a roar the motor started and water gushed out of the four-inch pipe into the small pond. From that pond he watched it rushing towards the fields. With a satisfied look on his face he started to wash his hands in the pond, he wanted to take bath but he decided to put it off for the moment.
The vast green around him brought a smile to his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. There is no happiness like watching your children grow, and watching his green fields gave him the same elation, which he had felt while seeing his son grow. He noticed the steamy mist rising from the flowing water, an indication of dipping mercury in Punjab. But the ground water would be warm he thought, he knew it from his experience. He started chewing on Datun he had cut out from the Kikar tree next to the farm.
It was the daily ritual, it had to be so or else the bloody village people especially the women folk would steal all the radish & turnips apart from the Saag, the mustard leaves.
It was because of such people he had to spend nights in the room at “Khoo”, his tube well. Not that he was averse to the idea, it had its own advantages, a quarter of Sounfia or Santra every night and more than occasional night visits of Dalbeero the young widow from village were the incentives.
Yesterday before coming from his house he got a few chapatti packed in a cloth piece along with mandatory onion and green chilies and on the way he bought his sounfia too. He never drank at home as it always invited a fight with his wife. And to drink in the company of Dalbeero was incomparable.
His eyes wandered to his farmhand Lukka an immigrant from eastern part of India; hardly anyone knew his real name but everyone called him Lukka, he watched him collecting mustard leaves for him. His wife had asked him yesterday night to bring Saag from the farm .He jumped over the water channel towards the nearest field and pulled out a long radish .He washed it in the flowing water and admired it for a few seconds before taking a bite.
Jagga always loved winter; there were cures for winter but none for scorching summers. The fields looked more beautiful, one had more excuses to guzzle down Daru and meat. He blew his breath on his palm to smell it, to identify any hint of previous nights liquor but he could smell only the Radish, satisfied he smiled to himself and called out to Lukka.
“Oye kinna time chahida Tainu saaleya?”(How much more time you need moron?)
Lukku laughed back at him, without getting offended, showing his nicotine stained yellow teeth and started moving his hands faster. “How Dark Luuka looked?” Jagga wondered, even his yellow teeth looked so white in contrast to his dark skin. That’s why he was named so “Lukka” from “Luk” a Punjabi name forcoal tar or Bitumen.
Lukka was moving towards him holding Saag leaves tied in a neat bundle. Lukka was perfect in his work, worked like a beast and ate like an elephant, Jagga watched him washing the Saag bundle under the tube well water .He turned around and climbed his tractor while Lukku was shaking the Saag bundle to remove the water.
Lukku brought the Bundle and kept it next to him where Jagga had already kept a few radishes .It was Lukka who took care of the fields in the day time .He instructed Lukka about watering the fields and turned the ignition key, the tractor engine fired after a few failed attempts and he raced it towards the village.
Jagga whose full name was Jagdev was first born of his father Sardar Tarsem Singh. A devout Sikh Sardar Tarsem Singh was a highly respected person of the village. He in past had tried in vain to persuade his son Jagdev to give up his drinking habits but had given up after a few years.
Though Jagga in response to his father’s constant persuasions and his wife’s constant bickering had not given up the habit but had stopped drinking at home .He also avoided coming home drunk and rather started spending most of his time at his farm-house or “Khoo”. Both the sides were more or less happy with this new development. They were happy to get rid of the nuisance created due to his drinking and he was happy for being left alone.
Sardar Tarsem Singh had plenty of fertile land around the village and in all probability was the richest man around. But his philanthropic ways were big botheration for Jagga but were Sardar Tarsem Singh’s way of repaying debts of God. He had earned all of it here from this village and thought it a way of showing his appreciation to the village that fostered him and his family when he came here empty handed from Gujranwala in 1947.
Jagga during past few years had argued with his father on these matters, he genuinely felt the property they owned was hard earned and belonged to his father and to his sons and all should be consulted before giving any part of it in charity. But his father had mind of his own, he was a man who couldn’t be made to do what he didn’t intend to and Jagga was his son.
Recently Sardar Tarsem Singh had committed a piece of land to the Hindu’s of the village for constructing a temple and Jagga had been on fire since then .He tried to talk to his father about the issue but all his persuasion went in vain .He took the help of his son too and convinced him to talk to his grandfather. But Sardar Tarsem Singh had made up his mind.
It was while lying in the arms of Dalbeero half drunk that night he finally thought about the ways to stop his father and realized that there was no way to stop his father but one and the thought pained his heart. He had no greed for more but dreaded losing what he had .He wanted his son to own what he himself had not been able to own till date. He knew his father loved him but had become aloof towards him lately.
He moved away Dalbeero’s hand from his chest and got out of the bed .It was shivering cold outside the quilt, his eyes met a strangers eyes on a small mirror hung on the wall. His hair had become loose which he tied neatly in a bun still staring at his dim lit face in the mirror .Is it really required to be done? He questioned himself but got back no answers.
With every passing day he convinced himself more and more that this had to be done for the benefit of the family. He became a regular at the village gurudwara, he prayed to god trying to convince him. He wasn’t committing a crime it was a sacrifice. He spoke less and less to people; the only person he spoke to was Lukka and Dalbeero. Lukka was half mad therefore it generally was one-way communication. But he had seen Lukka talking to buffalos while feeding or bathing them; he wondered what he spoke to them.
Dalbeero on other hand came to him in nights, whenever she needed money or company. Since the day of loosing her husband, she had been living with her blind mother .She often worked in Jagaa’s fields in daytime for a living .She was attracted to him because of his nature, he had a very pleasant way of talking to labours, he mostly spoke very little. She was happy to have found him .She had often seen him looking at her while working in the fields .The feeling for each other was mutual and that is how it all had started.
Opportunity finally came when he had to leave for attending a marriage in a friends family in some other village .He decided it was now or never .In different circumstance he would have probably not attended the marriage but this was a god send opportunity.
He informed his father about the marriage and his unavailability for sleeping at the farmhouse at night .It was not advisable to leave the farm unattended therefore the father agreed to sleep there during his absence.
He left the village by a roadways bus passing through the village. After one hours journey through various villages he reached his friends village. His friend Ashok was happy to receive him as he had not exactly expected him to respond to his invitation. Ashok took him along to the place of marriage on his motorcycle. Ashok had already kept a separate room for such occasions. Jagga was aware a Hindu marriage would go on whole night. Both of them drank belly full of whiskey. Talked about younger days when life was fun. Danced and sang old songs loudly till their throats became soar. But during all these fun activities Jagga’s mind was wandering in his own village. An act he had conceived in his mind when he was sober needed him to be drunk to execute it.
His friend’s eyes told him that he was on the verge of passing out, he had been waiting for this moment, his soul stirred within his body thinking of what he was about to do .He asked his friend for his motorcycle keys but he had already passed out .He shook him and called out his name to be sure, but Ashok didn’t move a inch. Jagga then fished out the keys from his pocket and came out of the room. He could still hear music from the adjoining building where the marriage was in progress .He Knew where Ashok had parked his bike .He wrapped the blanket he had brought along around himself before driving out of the village almost unnoticed.
His mind was racing ahead of him and many unwanted thoughts were swarming his preoccupied mind .He constantly shook his head as if to centrifuge out of his mind these random thoughts which were all about his childhood and his father .He was in his father’s lap as a young boy one moment chatting to him and another moment he was driving tractor as a young boy while his father was teaching him.
He felt as if some unseen force was grasping his arms to hold him back but his mind was made up and nothing could stop him. He had to act fast return back before Ashok woke up .The Bus had taken him more than one hour whereas the Bike could take him there in less than an hour .It was a full proof plan and he couldn’t be caught because when Ashok would wake up in the morning he would find Jagga sleeping near him.
His farmhouse was across the village so he chose a longer road for the fear of being seen even though it was hardly a possibility at this time of winter night. He stopped his bike a few yards away from his Khoo. He got down from the bike, his body shivered, more so because of the thought of what he was about to do.
He looked towards the room where his father was sleeping, he almost dragged his feet towards the room, and his feet seemed to be made of lead .He dug out a spade, which he had hidden under the pile of straw. Those unwanted thoughts came back again to haunt him once again while he entered the room shaking his head and carefully pushing open the doors .The moonlight increased the visibility inside the room and he noticed his father move slightly.
He froze where he was standing with the spade in his hands. This was the moment! he tried to tell himself, but his body seemed to refusing to his command .It was his father he was about to kill .A father who loved him all his life, a father who was loved by all, a father who was a good human being full of compassion, a father who needed to be killed, a father…
“Kaun? Jaggeya puttar…the voice almost gave him heart attack “ you came back? I knew you would be back, I was telling your mother that you wouldn’t let me sleep here. Sardar Tarsem Singh sat up in the cot coughing.
“Ji” was all his tongue could mutter.
“Aider aa Putter”His father called him with such affection and he instantly was a small boy once again, he slowly and hesitantly went and sat down near his father’s feet with a heavy heart.
You should have slept at home putter one night here won’t make much difference to me” Sardar Tarsem Singh said patting Jagga’s shoulder, go home and have a good nights sleep at least tonight”
His father’s affectionate touch after ages did magic to Jagga .His heart was so full that his eyes overflowed, but his fathers weak eyes couldn’t see them .He wanted to tell his father the real truth but he didn’t want to loose what he had regained after years –His father .He slowly got up from the bed and quietly left the room still clutching the spade in his hands he didn’t need it for this purpose anymore what he needed was an excuse for Ashok, for bringing his bike without asking him.
Copyright © Anil Sharma
© anilnishant., all rights reserved.
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