Read Scattered Fates - a novel on the second partition of India Page 8


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  Standing on the sidewalk, Maya felt violated by the harsh rays of the sun. She was overprotective of her smooth complexion, but was afraid that her Corean cosmetics were not suited for Dravida’s harsh weather. To her horror, a few pimples had already started pushing her forehead. It was 20 minutes since Naga left her, and she was growing impatient.

  Why is it taking so long?

  She stared at the road in front, as assorted fancy cars zipped by. Not used to seeing so many cars on the roads, it frightened her. She could spot a metro train rumbling on concrete slabs overhead at a distance, like a huge iron centipede. Across the road stood a majestic ancient red brick building, with the words ‘University of Madras’ on the steel signboard bouncing off the sunrays.Looking back she noticed a monument, with a huge beautifully laid out park in the center. An arch that looked like two converging elephant tusks adorned the entrance, and there was some kind of pillar like structure. To her right, was the long stretch of beach, and a few shops and restaurants cluttered the sides, the closest shade was the park. There was no option.

  Unable to bear the heat any longer, she made her way towards the gigantic elephant tusks, all the while protecting her face with a newspaper that she had fortunately had the foresight to grab.

  The park looked quite clean, and colorful with assorted flowers reaching for the sun. They had just been watered. There were plenty of benches under the shade of a massive banyan tree. The temperature seemed to have suddenly dropped by a few degrees as Maya approached.

  She realized that this was some kind of a memorial.

  Annadurai? Isn’t it the name of the airport?

  The pillar like structure had a flame burning at what looked like a small tomb.The park looked big and the signboard stated that it was laid over an area of about 510 hectares, featured a small safari park, a nocturnal animal house, an aquarium and a museum.

  A few couples were whispering in hushed tones, some even locked in a tight embrace, unmindful of the world.

  What a contrast to Corea, where couples of the opposite sex were discouraged from showing their affection in public. In fact an organization called ‘Protect Corean Culture’, even went around public parks threatening and humiliating unmarried couples, and youngsters in western attire, even as the cops looked on.

  She chose a bench, which provided a clear view of the spot where Naga left her, aware that he would not be able to hear her shout.

  A loud gong startled her. She turned around and spied an ancient clock on a weather beaten wooden stand. It was 12 ‘o clock.

  Her stomach rumbled as she realized that it was lunchtime in Pyongyang. She had still not got used to the one o’clock lunchtime in Dravida.Unfolding the newspaper, and spreading it across her lap, she hoped for some interesting articles to read. It was today’s edition of The Hindu.

  What boring news. Nothing makes sense.

  She flipped through the pages and sighed, folding it again.

  ‘Waiting for someone?’ a shaky voice called out.

  Seated on the bench in front was a thin old man, leaning on his walking stick giving her a crooked wrinkled smile.

  ‘Yes. My friend is just parking his car right now.’

  ‘Impossible to get parking here now, it is a working day. Where are you from? Japan?’

  ‘No. Corea.’

  ‘Corea? Oh, wonderful country. I have been to Seoul many times, taught a semester at Seoul National University. I used to teach at Madras University, retired 10 years ago.’

  ‘Wow. What subject did you teach?’

  ‘Development Economics. Where do you study? Madras University?’

  ‘No sir. Corea University. I am doing my Ph.D, and came here for research.’

  ‘Ummm… in Pyongyang? I know a professor from there. He was my student here a long time ago, just when the Civil war broke out. You remind me of him.’

  ‘Don’t all Coreans look the same to you? Most Dravidians do to me.’

  ‘Ha, ha, you are right. Anyway, what is your research on?’

  ‘Contradictions in capitalist societies born out of civil war.’

  ‘That is interesting. I actually wrote a paper on it 20 years back. It may need updating.’

  ‘Sir, can I have a copy of it?’

  ‘It should be available in the University library. As I told you, I am retired now. I visit the library every afternoon between 1 and 4, maybe I can help you locate a copy.’

  ‘Thank you sir, I am sure it will be helpful. Hope I can discuss my research with you. Oh, there is Naga,’ she said spotting him on the sidewalk.

  ‘Sir, nice meeting you, I will come to the library,’ she said hurriedly, bowing her head deeply.

  ‘Naga! Naga!’ she shouted, turning around and running towards the sidewalk frantically waving the newspaper.

  Noticing her, Naga waved his arms, gesticulating to hurry up.

  ‘Naga, you just won’t believe whom I met,’ she said, panting as she approached.

  ‘Sorry I am late. No parking spots. Maybe we have to come back later. Hurry, I just parked it on the shoulder,’ he cut her short. They rushed towards the car, just as a police patrol car slowed down behind them.

  ‘Sorry. Engine trouble. We are on our way,’ Naga told the cops, who waved and continued.

  Maya just stared. If it were Corea, the cops would have definitely demanded a bribe before letting them go.

  ‘That was close,’ he said. ‘So who did you meet, another Corean?’

  ‘No, an economics professor who can help me in my research, he wrote a paper on my topic years ago. He also taught in Seoul.’

  ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Uh-oh. I forgot to ask.’

  ‘Are you sure it was not someone hitting on you?’

  ‘A seventy year old man? I don’t think so,’ she laughed.

  ‘Then how will you find him? Want me to go and ask, if he is still around?’

  ‘No, that’s OK. He said he goes to the university library everyday between one and four. I am sure I will recognize him. Moreover, I don’t want to sit in the car alone. What if the cops come back?’

  ‘As you say. We can meet him on the way back from lunch. By the way, did you go to that memorial out there?’

  ‘No. I was waiting for you. Isn’t Annadurai your father of nation?’

  ‘We call him Anna, which also means elder brother. Yes, he is the father of my nation. When my dad was on the drafting committee of our constitution, he realized that the original Indian constitution did not permit any titles except educational and military ones, so he included a special provision. Although Hindustan claims that Gandhi is their father of nation, it is not constitutionally valid. That was the spot where Anna addressed all the students, and gave the first cry for Independence. As a mark of respect the eternal flame burns on the same spot.’

  ‘You mean Gandhi was never legally the father of nation?’

  ‘No, of course not, it is a myth perpetuated by the Hindustani school textbooks. After independence in 1965, Dravidians wanted a local father of nation and made sure that it is legally tenable. Globally, Anna may not be as popular as Gandhi, but he commands the same respect here,’ he said. ‘You know the irony? Gandhi is famous for his non-violence, and he is supposedly Hindustan’s father of nation, one of the most violent regimes in the world today.’

  ‘Naga. Can I meet anyone who fought in the Civil War?’

  ‘I will try, have to ask around. If my father were here, he would have been the best man to give you insights. You know, he arranged Anna’s meeting here that night. Let’s ask the old man you met today. Hey, time to go now. Mathew must be waiting.’