Hey guys…
Ruskin Bond is one my favorite writes, I remember studying 'The woman on platform no. 8' and the subtle emotions which touched my heart…even though at that time I was not such an evolved person. I just got to find a beautiful story of his which I am going to write it down. I will tell the name of the story in the last or else the excitement would be lost!!!! Don't you guys dare, see the end first and then read…I will personally kill you all. Kidding…But hope you enjoy this one… it would be heart-warming….I promise…I just fell in love with it…thought I would be taking liberties a usual…and write more than the actual one… nothing complicated like 'The Vine of Desire", simple, straight and from the heart…
This is my 75th story…I feel so old…like a sexagenarian, who has retired after a long career… …Thank you guys…it wouldn't have been possible without you all…Thanks for tolerating me for years now… … you people have been my sounding board.
Enjoy…!!!
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"The Silent Eyes"
"I have looked into your eyes with my eyes. I have put my heart near your heart"
-Pope John XXIII
The train halted…the wheels stopped on the railway track with a loud noise. All the hawkers rushed into the compartments, calling in loud voices to endorse their products, competition was the buzz word in this new millennium and even here it was no different…the passengers who were to board the train entered the cubicles carrying their luggage, searching for their respective seat numbers…a handicapped beggar passed through the narrow lane of the compartment, S6 seat number 25…the few coins in his hand jiggling as he moved his palm asking for alms…
Jai Walia had been looking out of the window since his journey started from Delhi…after a brief visit to his cousin sister's new home; he was going back to Mussoorie, his hometown…his face turned hearing the beggar approach…he quickly placed his hand in pocket of his trouser, searching for some change…taking out a coin he reached for the beggar…
"Sorry…" he uttered apologetically, his handsome face scrunching a bit as he dropped the coin on the floor…
"Koi baat nahin sahib…" the young boy, picked up the coin
"Yeh kaun sa station hain…" he asked, assuming that it would be Meerut but still questioning for confirmation…
"Meerut…" he replied and crawled ahead holding the edges of the seat for support…
There was only one co-passenger accompanying him…an old lady who constantly muttered a monotonous prayer on her lips…being the prime of winter nobody preferred to travel, it was chillingly cold…
He sighed turning his attention back to gazing outside…something which he loved…thinking of a new story for his incomplete book…his yet to be published second book was not complete…it was a collection of short stories…he was skeptical about his skill as a writer…vey under-confidant, he just wrote to amuse himself…it was a way of expression for him...the way he perceived the world to be…Pure…Beautiful…Loving…without any Terror…Fear…he felt exhilarated putting his haphazard thoughts, giving them shape and form, seeking for pearls in the deep oceans of his soul…brining them out…and finally weaving them together…making a gorgeous string of necklace out of it… His first book had been a bestseller…he still couldn't figure out Why?? But it was…he had been over-whelmed by the response and forever thankful to her cousin sister for encouraging him to take up his 'stupendous writing which touched the heart' as she put it, more seriously… …
But suddenly after the success there was a void again…the void which had always been there…which he became friendly with since the early age of his life…there was lack of inspiration like it always had been… for a greater part of life…but he had realized his wondrous gift that God had bestowed upon him only recently and had learned to appreciate it as the love of God for whom some people were more special… these were the fairytale words of his decreased mother…they pacified him now…like a lullaby, patting him to sleep every time he felt life was unfair and bitter…after a lot of brainstorming he was finally able to pen down what he wanted…but then again something was missing…a thread…a pearl…soul maybe…
His solacing thoughts got disturbed by the soothing noise of bells, maybe some girl's chiming anklets…
"Bani beta…dhyaan se jaana…" a female voice called out…
A peculiar jasmine fragrance wafted in the air…making the dull, frost laden air come alive with joy…like the spray of spring flowers garnished nature…
"Bani…beech main kahin mat utarna…samjhi…"
"Jee masi…" an extravagantly sweet voice replied…as if gallons of honey was being poured…
"Kuch bahar ka mat khaana…"
"Jee masi…" the girl stressed her words…
"Anjaan logon se baat mat karna…"
"Jee massi…"
"Aur jaate hi phone karna…"
"Jee masi…" there was a tinge of tease in her voice…
Jai smiled slightly…mentally thinking how fastidious mothers usually were…pampering…at the same time overtly protective and cautious and the very next moment angry over being disobeyed…
The whistle blew…
"Bye beta…"
"Bye massi…"
The train started to move… in no time it left the station and was meandering around the hills of the North…
After a deafening silence, jai couldn't sit still…he grew restless…feeling bored, fidgeting with his fingers he looked up…his face tilted at a particular angle…which happened accidentally, he always defended his strange posture whenever his sister teased him jovially…
"Hi…Are you also going to Dehradun…" he asked…there was a pause…
"Ummm…no…I am going to Saharanpur…"
"Oh!!" he said making a 'O' with his mouth…
"I…I stay in Mussoourie…" he said after an initial lull of hesitation…
"Oh!!That's wonderful…" she exclaimed…he was amazed by her exclamation, just like one wrote the part of speech…an elated word followed by a mark with a dot under it…the perfect exclamation…
"Why…??" he asked puzzled by her sudden amusement…
"It would be such a lovely sight there…specially now…in October…" she said, in a dreamy voice…like she was actually sleeping, and dreaming about the ice-capped mountains hidden behind the frozen clouds, green vegetation dressed in white clothes of snow….
"Yes…" he replied…
A sudden silence fell between them… sounds filtered from the surroundings…
Much later… quite daringly…he measured his words…then thought for a second…then spoke up…
"You…you have an interesting face…" he uttered with bashfulness…his embarrassment multiplied when he heard her tinkling laughter reverberate; he moved his face in all directions, something which he did whenever he was nervous or angry…
"Why are you laughing…??" he asked, feeling a bit awkward…
"It was indeed a welcome deviation from the often repeated phrase…You have a pretty face…" she said and he could imagine her smile…again a silence spread in-between them…he tried to sketch her smile…How would her beautiful smile be???
A genteel smile…
A coquettish slanted smile…
An open smile of attraction…
A sly grin remembering something…
An indulgent smile…
But however the smile looked…it rang bells in his ears…which echoed with a music of their own…never heard of…as if a wright was playing a lyre sitting on the river bank from a far off island…
"What do you do stranger…??" she asked…
"I tell stories…" he replied…
"Oh!! So you are a storyteller…" she said with admiration…
"I love stories…" she added…
It was after many hours of interplayed quietness and words that finally Saharanpur arrived…
"Bye…Mr. Storyteller…" she said, calling him by the name she gave him…
"Bye…Miss…it was wonderful meeting you…" he said giving her a pleasant smile…
"I will listen to your stories…maybe someday…" were her parting words…before he heard the drab sound made by her suitcase coupled with the suppressed giggles of her anklets… and he knew she had left…
A moment later, the noiseless compartment was filled by the scuttle of a person…one of his luggage hit jai's leg as he moved his leg disoriented…
"I am sorry sir…" a male voice apologized…
"It was my fault…its okay…" he said…
The man didn't say anything further, settling down in his seat…
"Well, pity that I am not as attractive as your co-passenger who left…" he joked… raising the curiosity which was already seeded in jai's mind…
"Did she have long hair or short hair…??" jai asked impulsively…
"Well, I only noticed her eyes…they were beautiful…but…" he trailed off…
"But…"
"She was blind…"
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The sorrow came from the beginning of time…and the joy without end... …
A tinkling sound would come to his ear from afar, and would send him dreaming of the ankles whose tiny golden bells sang at each step…Ah, the rosy red tender feet that walked the dust of the earth like God's mercy on the fallen…
He would espy some shadow moving behind the veil…at the merest glimmer of the moon and the faintest whisper of the summer breeze…the shadow flitted…before his lightless eyes…around him…dancing to mute tunes…
He touched the book compiled in brail form, especially published for him, which the editor had given it to him only yesterday, the book was going to be a hit…finally he had completed his book…titled"The Silent Eyes…" it was the missing thread he was searching for…the story which made the soul of the other stories…giving them an identity…rare and unique…
Maybe he should pay a visit to Sharanpur…Would she mind if he wished to meet her?? Would she get angry…?? A cloud of questions filled his clouded mind… …
Did she listen to his book…???
He wondered everyday…
Someday he would read it to her…
He opened the book with a smile…
"The Silent Eyes…" which spoke a million words…
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The End…
God bless
dhani
P.S.: The Eyes Have It (also known as The Girl on the Train & The Eyes Are Not Here) is a short story by Ruskin Bond. It's Awesome…
P.S.: I know my other two stories are stranded on an unknown zone, but I will try and finish Ek Boond Asmaan…by Holi…Hopefully!!!! I am sorry for that!!!Wish there were 48 hours in a day…
Kumkum Bhagya
Hollywood
Anupamaa
Health and Fitness
