Of course I don’t remember anything of the incidence; whatever I am going to narrate is heard from my mother and siblings who were quite old then.
My father was in
Military services so was transferred many times during his tenure. At the time
of my birth he was posted in Pachhmadhi, though the official name in gazette is
Panchmarhi, we always called it Pachhmadhi. Absolutely picturesque hill station
in the hills of Satpura and is rightly known as ‘Queen of Satpura’.
According to his
status in the hierarchy my father was given accommodation in a twin bungalow
which we shared with a north Indian family named Mishra.
Somehow though I was
hardly 3 to 4 years old, maximum 5, because there after we shifted to Pune, I
distinctly remember many things of Pachhmadhi. Our bungalow had two bedrooms, a
hall and a kitchen bit away from the main bungalow, joined by a sort of causeway
that had wooden railings and tiled ceiling. And as the British had built the army
quarters, there were many roomy verandas, one in the front and a huge one in
the back behind the master bedroom. And it directly faced a valley with dense
forest. Our bungalow was almost perched on the cliff of the valley!
Sighting of wolves,
jackals, wild boars and at times big cats, leopards as well as tigers was
fairly common. A story of a sweeper named Dhania, [I remember her name
distinctly, still] how after being attacked by a tiger, her mutilated body was
left behind, made many rounds, making it almost a folk lore.
In such a scenario I
was lost!! At the age of may be 2.5 to 3 years.
Deep in the jungles
around 2 to 2.5 kilometers away from our bungalow was a stream flowing into a
small water fall, known as Zaria. I was a water child and always loved to play
in the water. How I don’t but I managed to reach Zaria on my own. The road to Zaria
went through the jungles so was lined with thorny bushes. I knew it so only
sandals on the feet and a loose shirt on the torso, no knickers [?!], I
successfully marched to Zaria.
I had my own
stupendous time in the waters how much I don’t know, but back home it created
havoc!!!
‘Benurwar ka Ladka
Kho gaya!’ Benurwar’s boy got lost; was the war cry.
I and my brother had
our own caretakers, Halaku, a tribal looked after me while Michael a part time
carpenter in army looked after my elder brother. Both were trying their level
best in the search. Mishra family of course was there along with few Marathi families,
Mr. Kher and Mr. Mangalwedhekar. Nobody had a damn clue about my whereabouts.
Right from, ‘lost in the jungle to taken away by the wild animal’, all the
guesses were hazarded, that worsened my mother’s psychological condition, my
father had to abandon the work in the office and had to rush home.
Almost after two
hours, after a luxurious dip in the pristine waters I had returned home in the
warm embrace of my parents. Nobody blamed me but was crying his/her hearts out.
With half sobs when my father asked me, ‘Where I was?’ Absolutely innocently I
had told him in Hindi [I learnt my mother tongue when we came to Pune], ‘Gone
to Zaria to have a dip.’ And there was a smile mixed with deep sigh on every
body’s lips!
History always
repeats!
I had just recovered
from a heavy bout of Typhoid fever and was to attend the hospital after a very
long time. My son then, again, hardly 2.75 to 3 years old, said very innocently
and of course sweetly,
‘Baba you have just
recovered, I’ll come with you to look after you.’ Hospital was not very far
away so I let him come with me. Just next to the hospital, a new residential
apartment was coming up so I could not park the car near the hospital. Instead
I parked it on the main road leading to hospital. After walking down to the
hospital, I handed him over to the receptionist asking her to look after him
till I finish the rounds.
Say after 45 to 70
minutes when I finished the rounds, there were hardly any patients as I was
sick for rather a long time, Saket, my son was nowhere to be seen!
Big ditches were dug
for the plinth of the new building. A suggestion came ‘Get down in the water…. And
I lost the grounds below my feet. Weak from the recent illness, a child being
lost was unthinkable.
Hospital is very near
to the railway tracks, somebody came shouting, and ‘Two boys have come under
the train…..’ I barely could stand.
Hospital is in a residential
building, so all the neighbors came down to help me. Many suggestions, lots of running
around and what not, every possible idea was discussed out, ‘Where Saket could
have gone?’
My wife had fracture
in the leg then and had plaster cast. When we did not return for a very long
time she phoned up the hospital to get the catastrophic news. ‘Saket is lost’. She
came rushing to the hospital, almost hysterical. Chaos ruled the roost.
One of the residents
Dr. Ashu Solanki, and good neighbor Mr. Shetty who lived upstairs concluded
that, Saket is a smart child and must have gone homewards. Immediately they
took out the motorbike and drove towards my home in Ghatkopar west.
And to everybody’s
absolute delight Saket was found near Vikroli bus depot walking quietly,
holding both his hands behind, towards Ghatkopar, our home. When I held him
after finding him, naturally my eyes had welled up.
He asked me very
simply, ‘Why are you crying Baba? Where were you, I could not find you nor our
car so I went home.’
How he managed to
reach quite a distance up to Vikroli Bus depot from Vikroli station still
dumbfounds me. How he crossed a busy thoroughfare like LBS Marg, how nobody
noticed such a small child walking alone, not scared not confused he just
walked alone. Quizzes and more quizzes!
Benurwar’s boy was
lost for the second time but was found again!
Now I am in my early
seventies and I don’t think it is the age to get lost!
My son’s in laws and
their extended family had arranged a visit to their home town, Vengurla in
February, this year. Gawades have a huge coconut orchard at Pale’ near Vengurla
that’s almost at the foot of steep mountains. Naturally to climb up the
mountains to reach the top was one of the activities on the agenda. After
visiting the light-house, a trip to sea shore, the port of Vengurla it was time
for “Mountaineering!’
Due to my respiratory
condition I always take my time to do such things, means going at half the
speed than the others. Slow paced, rather very slow paced! Taking rest after
every forty five to fifty steps I could manage to climb up half the way to the
top. The nearest person, due to loss of breath and lack of stamina had opted
out and I could see her sitting on a rock for breath. The ones in front of me
were walking fast so within few minutes I could see neither them nor the one
behind me.
I always want to
prove to myself so always try to complete whatever task I partake. So though I
could not see any humanity in the vicinity I kept on climbing. After walking up
for some time, may be twenty or so minutes I realized that I might be lost! All
the paths looked the same, or should I say there was no path as such! I could
see the top but the last leg of climb turned out to be too steep. Plus my shoes
were not meant for the purpose. They were not having enough hold on the earth
below. And it happened. They gave away. The gravel below slipped with such a
speed that I was flat, horizontal to the ground and was slipping downwards with
frightening speed, in seconds.I tried to get hold of the bushes on the sides but each one
was laden with thorns, as a result I had more than few bruises plus as many
splinters all over the palms. Shin of my right leg is notoriously vulnerable to injuries. It got bruises for the 'N'th time ,mostly superficial.But fortunately it stopped. I laid there still,
not even trying to move a finger, lest it starts another roll down!
Within those few
minutes my mind went absolutely berserk. I imagined help from the sky in the
avatar of helicopter, a wild cat attacking me and what would I do in such case?
I tried to get a big stone, none was found. I was to hit the nose of the beast
with it, in dire emergency! How to spend the night in that wilderness? Thousand
thoughts.
Back home it was
another scene. Mid way to the top the company had taken the left turn and
descended down leaving me to conquer the fort! And then they realized that I was
lost! Except my wife everybody practically lost their marbles. She was sure
that I would definitely return because she knew what clay I am made of. My son
was in shambles and made umpteen efforts to find me. It went on for more than
45-50 minutes and they were about to give up the hopes.
But the Gawades knew
the locale so well that they sent few of their men to get me. Losing to the age
and the hostile nature I decided to climb down when I heard the voices of few
people. The children of the mountain reached me in jiffy and holding my finger literarily
helped me to climb down to the safety.
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