Night of full moon in early summer- celebrating the memory of my closest companion

 அற்றைத் திங்கள் அவ்வெண்ணிலவில் ..........

Cool breeze brought a respite from the heat of the day in the evening and I was on the sit-out. I was drawn to the sky as usual and a beautiful, cool and silvery full moon gently touched me with its soothing rays! The vast, limitless space up there always pulls me.How many evenings I would have been lying on my back and simply drifting letting myself merge with the vastness! Anyhow that is not the issue here. It is the moon which reminded me of another evening, another place and another time because it appeared to be hanging so low that I could reach up and touch it.

I travelled to that time some three decades ago to that full moon night during the same time of the year but in a place 10,000 feet above sea level. It was beyond the last village on the Indian side on the Indo Chinese border. All around the mighty Himalayas stand in stark beauty with barren slopes and snow covered peaks. We were on a place which was part of the mid latitude desert. Yes, it was the border post of the Indian army and I could say I am one of those few ladies who had visited that place.
 A closer resemblance

 The first thing that struck me as soon as I entered that place was the vast open space and the lofty, silent sentinel of our country looking at you wherever you turn around. We were to live in a semi circular (like the African huts) 2 roomed accommodation. The temperature during day would never go beyond 12 or 13 degrees C and night time it was below 0 degree even in the summer time. Imagine a simple small town woman of 22 years from extreme south with not much exposure placed in such a location! That was me and I loved every minute of it and I thrived in that cold. This even brought comments like I was like polar bear or I looked like a Kinnouri girl!

The military area was beyond Sumdo, a sleepy Himalayan village, inhabited by humans this side of Indo Tibetan border. It was part of Lahoul Spiti district of Himalayas.

The Pare Chu river gushes along the camp with ice cold water. All around, the barren moonscape with its harsh beauty touches something deep in your heart.

Drawn towards open space, as I was, every moment there, I loved and cherished. True, we of the plains and warmer environs cannot go on there for ever. Perhaps, the knowledge that my stay there was limited to only 4/5 months had made my awareness of the surroundings sharp and profound. Moreover, there were 'add -ons' like we did not need to cook daily and just enjoy our stay with long walks, bath in the exclusive sulphur spring or make trips to nearby army establishments!  My friend used to tease me saying I had 3 honey moon trips and this was one hell of a long one!

Wondering where does moon come into this picture?  One can now imagine/visualise how close the Sun or Moon would appear there.(soon, the connection will be clear). The long red brown roads, rows of Nissan huts on one side and on the other side of the road, Pare Chu running along with us making musical sounds when rocks and stones get constantly washed by the water and watching the playful antics of our Lhasa Apso,  taking moon light walks along the river bank occasionally  and trying out cooking 'Milagu rasam' or kichdi once in a while- this more or less made up my day. Of course, I used to share my impressions with my paatti, amma and chithi who used to lap it up all with such enthusiasm.(Through letters).
Every army battalion has the tradition of celebrating 'Raising Day' referring to the it was raised. It use to be a proud and great occasion for every one in that battalion. If one knows the way of army functions, then it is easy to expect the meticulous planning and organisation, lavish spread of food, grand decorations, parties and the like.One should see to believe their innovative ways to make the best of any situation and enjoy here and now. This Raising Day was on the Full moon day in May that year and the Officers of the nearby army units were invited for two day function. Guest rooms were prepared and we were asked to accommodate one family each which we gladly did.
Did I mention that this place had no electricity then? But who needed it anyway with their powerful gas lights and their indigenous methods of central heating? It was pleasant during daytime and nights were obviously cold dipping to minus.For the main function, bands were to play and dance floor was prepared in the open in front of the Mess. Dinner was also to be served in the open looking across at those slopes of Himalayas. Slowly as dusk set in, I saw torches being lighted along the paths like those days of the past. The entire place was drenched in the cool, milky light of the moon and the moon was a sight to behold! That is not the end of it. There was an expectant air and every body was looking at the opposite feature of the mountain as the moon rose up. Suddenly, every body here went still and there was a hush. There on the opposite slope, an ibex came alive! So many Jawans had climbed to that place and with torches had made the out line of that beautiful animal on the slope. We were speechless and then there was burst of clapping.
(Ibex was the mascot of the Border Scouts Unit to which my husband had gone on deputation.
By the way, can any one tell me is ibex same as the Himalayan Tahr? As I was trying to find out about this, I came across this fact that it is so adept in scrambling across harsh Himalayan mountain terrain. The way it jumps across from one feature to another is simply beyond words!

The memory of that evening opened the door to that corner deep down in my mind and out came the happy thoughts and feelings stored in there about my friend and companion and husband. I had my doubts and worries about the 'husband material' and wondered how much I had to 'adjust' to make the marriage work. But along with that, the die hard optimist in me hoped for the best. And it turned out to be the best, thanks to my husband as he was prepared to take that extra step forward to meet his partner! Perhaps, there are men like him but I would like to say that there could be no one like him in honouring, respecting and cherishing women. There was this inherent understanding of a woman's needs. His thoughtful gestures and open appreciation at the right time had endeared him to many women and his men adored and respected him. He could rub shoulders with ease with a high brow set, impress the Anglisised crowd with his accent, swing a leg in parties and with the same ease he could squat with Jawans and talk local dialects and share their 'khana'.
He never judged me or told me to change but was always there to lend support, in case I was unable to run the house according to the standard. His training to  keep things in place and not postponing chores was from a very young age. What started at home was reinforced through his military training from 11 years of age. No, not even for a moment think of him as a strict, dour, aloof and unimaginative person. His zest for life was contagious and he enjoyed every moment of the time here. He dealt with every one whom he came across with simple honesty and a rare empathy. Whenever we were invited to a friend's or relative's house for dinner/lunch, the first thing he would do would be to turn to the hostess and appreciate loud and clear, Ma'am, what a spread and they look so delicious!" When he did that with his boyish grin with a dimple on one cheek with such sincerity, the ladies would melt with joy. (I used to make fun of that but it was genuine on his part.) He had such classic taste and style that I know of senior ladies who trusted him to get silk sarees from Chennai.   

Stopping midway on a winding mountain road to reach out to a mountain stream cascading down a slope, taking a walk from Napier bridge to Gandhi statue on the Marina with waves washing our feet or taking a bike ride on the wet roads of Chennai with rain soaking us and chilling us - any such out of the way fun I imagined, he brought them alive! And what fun they used to be for I had a perfect partner, and an adoring husband!
I am blessed to have the upbringing which provided me the intuitive wisdom to accept death as part of the cycle of life. and from the very first conversation we had,his favourite refrain was 'nobody is indispensable' to prepare me for such a loss and to face it in the true spirit of a soldier's wife.
Yet... the ties of this 'Maya' and 'sansaar' pull me back into the vortex of pain and sadness.
Not for long! I come out again refreshed by the memories and his sense of joie de vivre engulfs me in its fold. 
 

3 கருத்துகள்:

Priya Nagesh சொன்னது…

Amma, Thank You very much for this. Loved every bit of this piece, and in a very personal way. It brought him alive, otherwise there is so little for us (apsu and me) to go by. It makes me realise that we dont talk enough to you about him, because (and I keep saying this to a lot of people) - you speak of him always so freshly, so youthfully, as if it all happened yesterday and with not even a little bitterness that you had so less time with him.
And as always, your writing itself is so very descriptive and poetic. And I did not realise that you have given me my love of open spaces [among other things of course! ;)]. Thank you for being you.

Chitra சொன்னது…

Ram said...
though i read the blog entry sometime last afternoon, i couldn't immediately write to you on that.

i do not articulate what is sacred to me as i am afraid that i may bring the meaning of it down by containing it in words, but, you have done a wonderful work here and it is something very sacred, happy that you have done this...as the mind kept processing the comment to your blog, the following lines came to me at 2 in the night, i am up typing this so that i mail you immediately ---

வன்மையான சிந்தனைகளும், மென்மையான உணர்வுகளும்
வர்ணனைக்கு உட்படும்போது, வார்த்தைகள் வீர்யமடைகின்றன!

Kumar Yagnaraman சொன்னது…

hi athai
a well written travelogue, very impressive. I think i am going to pester appa to take us there now for our next vacation.
Janani

Do you have any questions?

  प्रश्नः,  प्रश्न , 'கேள்வி ,  ചോദ്യം (chodyam), 'Prashna' - ప్రశ్న, প্রশ্ন, प्रश्नः,  प्रश्न , ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆ( Praśne ), પ્રશ્ન, سوا...