A Short Talk with Lord of Rain

Shyamal Banerjee

          After my three fictions being accepted for publishing, I was elated and found a meaningful engagement after retirement from service. I got encouragement (with hidden touch of satire) from friends to pursue my newfound hobby. They predicted about the possibility of my name being nominated if not for booker, at least for some homegrown academy awards. This satire encouraged me further to put my efforts in a more vigorous way in order to silence them in future. All websites, giving tips for better writing, became my favourite sites.

In an online encyclopedia, statement of one renowned author is available. One of his highly read voluminous novels is based on his surroundings. But he admits that all names are changed except that of his pet dog. The poor dog cannot file a PIL. This made my writing difficult. In the process of changing names from actual characters, mix-up of names became a source of embarrassment. Reviewers started sending me back my writings, advising me to rewrite from scratch.

Friends suggested me to visit social networks for making contacts with people of substances. I became member of some of them. Very soon I had to stop visiting some of these social network sites as I started getting offers by e-mail, which were not connected to my literary enlightenment. I had to delete them from my mailbag without opening them. Lastly I resorted to reading stories and novels of reputed authors, both old-timer and modern writers. Last story, I read, was about to put an end to my newfound engagement. I think the author did not anticipate that his story would also land at the hands of old persons like me. Story proceeds like this; an old man after retirement gets inspiration for becoming a writer. He thought that during his career, he was not recognized for his work due to his bad luck. He also consoled himself that he was above the internal politics prevailing in his office. After retirement he could not join any other profession or become a member of a social welfare organization for the same reason of politics. The old man was finally rescued from the “Don Quixote” syndrome.  How and by whom the old man was rescued, cannot be written here, as it may be infringement of copyright.

. All these material entered my mind. Finally, the “anti Don Quixote” syndrome attacked me. I was totally in a state of let-down. All of a suuden enthusiam for a new purpose in life evaporated.

I got the habit of taking tranquilisers occassionally to get sleep. One night, before going to bed I was watching a TV programme on the forecast of monsoon. A panel of experts was presenting the forecast on monsoon. I have seen most of those panel members in the TV programme, from close distance. Now a days no body is interested in following Krishna - Sudama type relation. I consider that the practical way of tacklimg the situation is to remember one of small  couplets of Tagore. Literary translation of the couplet  will be

“ The flame from the kerosine lamp threatens

the earthen lamp -  if it  addresses

 him as his  brother.

                                                           he would strangulate him.

By this time the moon rose in the sky.

Flame from the kerosene lamp welcomes

the moon, addressing him as his elder brother.”

.

I don’t remember when I fell into sleep.  But I remember the eventful sleep. Before proceeding further on remembering the events, I would acknowledge the contribution of the TV programme for the chemical changes coupled with increase in the energy levels in the neurons in my brain.

I was sitting on the side of the small rivulet in my native town. The railway line passes near by. There are two bridges, railway (single track) bridge and the road bridge.  I was sitting on the parapet of the road bridge. There were not many people around. I heard a whimpering sound. At a distance a well-dressed person was standing in the river. First I thought that he was standing on some platform. The sound was coming from his direction. I assumed that he was weeping and trying to suppress his sob. I jumped into the river as a hero to rescue the weeping man. When I started swimming, the well-dressed man came flying and lifted me from the water and took me to the bank at a distance from the road and railway line. I thanked him and asked why he was whimpering.  He asked me not to raise any alarm if I wanted to spend some time with him. With hesitation I agreed, as I did not have any other engagement. He introduced himself as Varun, the lord of rain. He told that he was fed up of getting repeated calls from earthly people. They asked if normal rainfall could be expected. He said “Everybody remembers me before monsoon or if there was shortage of rainfall. If the rain is normal or more than normal, they forget me and start praising Indra because he is the king and he keeps the weather department with him ”.  He continued, “ Some time I feel totally ignored. I cannot even weep, because nobody will differentiate if it is my tears or rain water”. I touched lord Varun’s feet and asked his secret of maintaining balance and how he managed to continue to perform his duty with so much dedication. He advised, “Always maintain a ‘feel good factor’. Even in a desperate situation you will find the purpose to prolong. I know that all calls from your people to me were for spreading the same feel good factor to your countryman.” I immediately corrected with due humility “Sir, they are big people and not my people or connected to me”. Lord Varun patted me and gave a purposeful smile.

I tried to change the topic and wanted to have chat on the goings on in the heavenly world. Varun became very enthusiastic. He told, “ Same mischief goes on everywhere. Your people know very well that you will get good rain if there is heavy rain in South China. After causing flood and landslide there, my clouds will come to your southern peninsula and immediately precise date of arrival of monsoon will be announced and your people will stop making calls to me.   Till then your people will do computation in a place away from your weather head quarter in your capital. By the way - have your people updated the old computer in your ‘Jal-Vayu Ghar’ with what Tata made recently?” I again persuaded him not to repeat “my people”. And told “If they come to know about it, they will put me behind the bars.” Lord Varun understood my dilemma. I asked him “My lord, you have not yet told the reason for weeping”. Varun told, “You have lightened my heart. I wished your person could go to Indra’s court and plead for rain. Anyway he has so much experience in your supreme court.” I asked Varun “How a mortal can go to god’s court?” He became very angry and shouted “Then, why you go to the hilltop temple before the big firework? I have seen you once and you repeated the visit to idol, breaking the queue and dropped money in the hundi”. I fell flat on Varun’s feet and asked him how he remembered my past work, which I have forgotten long back.  By that time my mobile phone wrung. Varun asked me to switch it off immediately. He did not allow me to see the caller’s details. He repeated that he had been sent to get a closer view of the events. The pollution level had increased to such a level that the clear details are no longer visible from there. Even Brahma’s vision is failing to get details. A sample visit in your neighbourhood, has depressed me. If I present the actual condition in Indra’s court, I would be blamed. He narrated the details and asked me to write about it and spread importance of reducing pollution through social awareness. I gave my frank opinion “Sir, it is next to impossible to get any publisher of magazine, who would accept your suggestion for publishing. TV channels would throw me out, as it would spoil the TRP of the channel. Even in street corner skits, it would not be accepted”. Varun replied “Now, I understand why those frail ladies are not able to spread the message of environment pollution in a convincing way”. He went into deep contemplation. I did not know that he had knowledge about all the latest developments on this planet. He had bigger ideas. He told that he would visit Rowling, if she could take initiative through her Potter. Also he would ask the big cine artist if he could repeat the act of entering with his soul to other’s body for spreading the message of saving the doomed planet. I prayed to Varun “Sir, those were hypothetical and cannot be repeated in real life.” His reaction was very violent and expressed angrily “Your people in the name of ‘feel good factor’ use those tricks. Why don’t you follow the same in this case also? Even in our place, the same trick is played. When nothing works to get the bill passed, Indra uses his ‘feel good factor’ to convince his house. When 250 million people do not know when their next meal would come, you plan for landing on Mars”. He kept quite for sometime. Then broke the silence “ the train is coming and I guess it is going to your capital. I have wasted time with you and now I am going if I can convince somebody there”. I told him the train does not stop here. All of a sudden it started raining heavily and visibility became very poor. The train stopped. Varun waved and boarded the train.

I do not know for how long the telephone was ringing. I took it. My wife was very angry. She thought that I must have taken heavy drink the previous night. I tried to explain that I was busy with Varun. She shouted back that she had made call last night. I told that Varun asked me to switch off without looking at the caller’s identity. She remained silent for some time and informed that she would come very soon and advised me not to take any medicine. She added that she would request her brother, who is a renowned psychiatrist, to accompany her. Before putting the phone down, she asked me to contact our son for some message, which she could not follow.

After returning from the toilet and having morning tea, I realized why she was coming with her brother. I could not understand if Varun had spoiled my standing or broke my solitary living. I contacted my son. He also repeated that he tried to contact me and I did not respond. This time I was careful and did not repeat Varun’s name. He was angry that I did not take a good photograph or send a photograph of young days for publishing in the net. I told him that I did not understand what he was talking. I walked around with the phone in my hand. I found neither the railway line nor the bridge in the surrounding. Then I asked for details. He told me that his friends saw my story, bio-data and photograph in the net. He liked the story but not my photograph. I promised him to correct in the next attempt. I hurriedly opened the net and found reference to one of my old stories. Without delay I forwarded them to my friends. I thanked Lord Varun. It must be his blessing that my writings drew attention.

I am waiting for another chat with him for getting his advice if I could write other material, which we discussed, without being prosecuted for contempt cases.

Now I am preparing material for convincing my wife and brother in law that I am not suffering from geriatric insanity.                     

***

Glossary

Brahma:  God of creation

Ghar:       House

Hundi      A collection box in a Hindu temple where money or gold is put as offering to

                the deity

Indra:       King of Gods and ruler of heaven. He is also god of weather

Jal-Vayu: Weather

Krishna:   Legendary King in Hindu epic the Mahabharata.

Sudama:   Krishna’s child hood friend who lived in penury. As per legend Krishna

                 welcomed him as a honourable guest when he came to his court.. 

Varun:      As per Hindu mythology, Varun is god of rain and wind. He is supposed to

                 have sharp eyes.

.  

PS:  I must give a “Statutory Disclaimer” that all characters except “Me” are fictitious. Any resemblance is accidental and author is not responsible for any accidental resemblance.

Copyright by author. Prior permission required for quoting any part

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