Magic of Hide and Seek

      For the last couple of days, they could not contact Banesingh. Three times, the ringtone from his mobile was quite clearly audible. But every time, it continued till its end, and none picked up. They presumed he must have been on the move. Often, he had to accompany other fellow colleagues travelling with the military convoy. It was a pretty usual sort of activity in his job. Back home, they—his parents, sister, wife, and little daughter too—knew very well about his work. Whenever he would visit home, it was only for a few days.

       The last time they could contact him, they learned that he would be moving to some undisclosed secret location somewhere in the Eastern Himalayas. During that conversation, he further said, "I may not get ample time and opportunity to contact you people. I'll remain very busy with our convoy of vehicles. Moreover, I'm not sure about the availability of mobile networks either. But don't worry. I'm fine. Convey my love and good wishes to my little daughter Jyotshna."       Sumanprit, his sister, tried to contact him for the fourth time. There was no ringtone, but soon after a few beeps, a prerecorded female voice apprised her that either the mobile was switched off or it was out of the network coverage area. 

     She knew very well that there were several places that were still not within the coverage of cell-phone networks. "Advertisements are just mere tall claims." To attract the customers they repeatedly say anything under the sun. She recalled at that instant one such ad that says, "Kar lo duniya aap ki mutthi mei" She soliloquized smilingly, revealing dimples on her cheeks. 

      Once one of her high school friends shared a wonderful anecdote with her, "You know, in my village there is a tall and grand-old tamarind tree. That tree used to be the most preferred landmark for those people who used to move with their mobile phones in hand, looking for the coveted 'network coverage' area. Villagers somehow managed to place a makeshift staircase made out of bamboo, recycled ropes, and wooden pieces. It's quite a rustic structure, indeed. But it helped them reach a higher level from the ground to get the much-needed mobile network in that remote village."

---

On the way, the convoy was about to approach an awesomely attractive Himalayan pass and a breathtakingly beautiful, serene valley below. The driver of the vehicle in which Banesingh was travelling noticed something wrong. Soon, he carefully parked the vehicle on the side of the serpentine road, where he found some extra space available. All three personnel alighted to see the exact problem. And they discovered that one of the forewheels was punctured. Thus, very soon, that tyre would turn flat. Two of them immediately started taking the necessary actions to change the wheel as early as possible.

The army men of the other vehicles in that convoy waved their hands and asked, "Should we wait for you, major?"

Although none of the three personnel in Banesingh's vehicle was in the rank of major, that's the most popular way of calling the fellow personnel. They liked to call out 'major' to address fellow colleagues with profound adoration.

Banesingh's threesome team waved their hands in anticipation and replied, "It's OK, major, not to worry. We'll change this wheel in no time and soon join you on the next stopover. Please proceed."

The punctured wheel was exchanged with the stepney within a few minutes. Although they kept stones behind the wheels for safety, as the vehicle was ignited for the start, the driver could very well presume that one of the hind wheels skidded alarmingly because the ground below was a bit loose. The brake was applied, and simultaneously, the accelerator was pressed to drag the vehicle forward, but that part of the road was almost like a ramp. The brake didn't work quite well. No sooner had the vehicle turned towards the gorge than all three of them jumped out of it. By sheer luck, the driver found himself entangled in a massively branched Oak tree. Besides some bruises, he was quite safe. The vehicle overturned and rested on a cliff upside down, supported by vertically growing, sturdy trees.

Having carefully freed himself, the driver came up to the road holding branches from several trees. For him, it was like 'getting up on the wrong side of the bed'. Soon he thought of contacting other members of that convoy. He had to walk a few kilometres to find a small hamlet.

No sooner did they get the news, some army men immediately rushed towards that site along with paramilitary personnel. They searched for Banesingh and the other fellow. But no trace of these two people was found.

---

By the time the search operation started, much before that, a sage, a true Good Samaritan, had chanced upon two of them. Their bodies were found entangled within some sturdy branchlets of a large oak tree. They were unconscious and had serious injuries all over. He carried them inside the only shelter available out there, the cave nearby. He tried his best to use his knowledge of herbal medicines. He spread hides, which he collected from animal carcasses. Banesingh's body responded to his treatments very well. But the other person succumbed to his injuries the next day.

After a few days, Banesingh recovered to some extent. It was a sort of coming back to life out of a sheer state of thoughtlessness, a far-flung, indescribable emptiness. For Banesingh, it was like a 'second life, indeed.

One morning, as he was awake, the sage asked him, "How do you feel, my son?"

He replied, "I am quite well. May I know who you are? And how do I reach here?"

The sage narrated the accident episode. Initially, he couldn't clearly recall anything about his own life or that of his near and dear ones. The sage not only nourished him but also shared with him varied stories, which children would love to listen to with rapt attention. Some adults, however, may prefer to call those cock and bull stories." Such stories and their conversations helped him adjust to his newfound surroundings.

One evening, as the full moon appeared out of the silhouette of the hills and the pristine vegetation, the ambience was immediately flooded with the golden glow of the moonlight. The sage told him, "Hurry up, my son, come outside and see how nice the surroundings are!" Moon-god's daughter is playing now all around here. See the golden glow of the beautiful 'Jyotshna'."

His words triggered Banesingh's inoperative mind out of the blue. Soon, he recalled the 'name' of his daughter, 'Jyotshna'. Immediately, Banesingh told him, I've got a little daughter, baba. Yes, she is Jyotshna. She is at home in my village. But where is my home? Where's that? I can't remember all these, baba."

He continued, "Yes, you know, Baba, she is the apple of my eye. She loves moving around—literally every nook and cranny of the house—and listening to the tinkle of her anklets. Who gave her those anklets? Who gave her those? I can't remember Baba. No, I can't. But yes, I do remember that if anyone wanted to catch her, she would simply slip away with her dancing movements. On full-moon nights, we would gather in our farmyard. On the thrashing floor, we would gather to eat our favourite food. And whenever she likes something, she gives a 'High Five' gesture."

The sage smiled and solemnly said, "Dear son, thank the almighty; you're again coming back to the lap of Maha-maya."

---

By that time, the people in Banesingh's home had received an official fax message about the accident and the disappearance of two personnel from that site. In that message, it was also mentioned with a humble request: In case Banesingh returns home, they should inform his platoon headquarters immediately without fail'.

The news shattered them.

All cried out of grief except little Jyotshna. She confidently said, "My papa is playing 'Hide-and-seek' the magic game with his playmates. He told me several times that they learned this game so that enemy soldiers could not trace them. Don't worry; he'll come back home and get a prize from his teachers for his winning performance. I'm sure he is on his way back home." All others thought that it was nothing but a child's 'mumbo jumbo'. 

---

There, in the shelter of the sage, Banesingh slowly regained his strength and stamina to some extent. He could remember certain things, albeit inconspicuous, while others remained completely vague. As if he were trying to locate things by looking through turbid water. He failed to recall all about the job he was doing, his recent posting, etc.

One evening, while sitting on a big chunk of rock right under that majestic Oak tree that magically saved his life, the sage said, See, my son, to live a decent life, you've got to develop some life skills, isn't it?"

"Yes baba." He sedately replied.

 "See, my son, this secluded life of a-saint is not for you." The sage opined.

"I do understand, baba." He calmly replied.

"Albeit, it's the matter of a single person, still you need to 'keep body and soul together' in a decent way. Let that be a modest but elegant life. What will you do, my son? 'Finding your feet' is essential. Isn't it?" the sage asked him.

"In the last couple of days, I pondered over this same matter, Baba. And I have come to the conclusion that I'll work in a hospital to give my bit of service to save the lives of others." He replied.

"OK, my son, I'll be helping you recognise the life-saving herbal medicines and telling you about their best uses." The sage assured him.

"I've already learned about a few of these. I think it would be very useful for my life ahead." He said it with a gaily gesture.

With the help of the sage, he picked up the necessary tips to recognise those plants, and he meticulously learned how to use those herbal medicines. After a fortnight, he reached the nearest town. The route was, of course, given to him. In addition to the oral instructions, Baba had drawn a sort of map on a piece of thin bark, which was almost like rolled rice paper. Before bidding adieu, Banesingh touched the feet of the sage to receive his blessings.

 

Reaching that small town, he found that the people out there knew very little Hindi. Somehow, he came across an well-known hospital which was managed by a community trust. They offered him a job. Within a month, the authorities recognised his commendable knowledge about some life-saving herbal medicines. He would treat injuries very effectively. And he was always ready to serve the patients 'at the drop of a hat'. 

Actions Speak Louder Than Words. People out there started calling him the 'miraculous medicine man'. 

While working there, every evening he would religiously visit a public library to read newspapers and magazines. He developed a good rapport with the librarian. On Sundays too, he would visit and help him arranging books and magazines on the designated shelves. After a few months, one Sunday evening, while helping the librarian, he came across an article in an old Hindi magazine about the news of that accident, which he and his two companions met with. Immediately, he noted down the address and the email ID of the editor of that magazine.

On that night itself, he drafted a letter to the editor of that magazine, requesting the details of the personnel travelling in that vehicle on that fateful day. After a fortnight, he received a letter from that magazine. The editor conveyed, "After that accident, only the driver survived, and two army personnel died, but their bodies were found missing from that spot. Since it's related to defence personnel, it would take some time to retrieve those details you asked for from the concerned authorities, but you're requested to forward your valid ID documents, without which it would not be possible to get the details you requested."

---

Back home in Banesingh's village, life continued. Oblivious to the fact that Banesingh was alive, his family members accepted the hard reality of his absence.

Two complete years had rolled by. Much water had already flowed through the river Beas, which flows a few kilometres away from his village. Banesingh's parents turned very old within the last couple of years.

Through their well-wishers, they received a marriage proposal from the house of Banesingh's distant cousin. The elder brother of that family, an industrious farmer, lost his wife while delivering their only son. The younger one runs a business selling automobile spare parts. Pretty well to do family, just two sons having considerably enough arable land. Banesingh's parents 'okayed' the proposal.

It was unanimously agreed upon that the younger son, Taransingh, would marry Sumanprit, while the elder one, Saransingh, would marry Banesingh's widow, Tara, following their age-old custom of the chunni' ceremony. And he would look after the old parents of Banesingh.

After a brief span, the disheartened household of Banesingh once again resounded and came alive with the shouts and claps of two children, a daughter and a son.

---

From that trust-run community hospital, Banesingh's name slowly spread far and wide in that area. After another couple of months, Banesingh once again pondered over the content of that letter he received from the editor of that magazine, and finally he decided to tell the grand-old trustee of that hospital, the senior-most person whom he trusted next to none but the sage in his second innings of life. He narrated to him about the accident he and his two companions met with. Hoping that the old man may be able to help him, he showed the letter that he received from the editor of that magazine, in which a small article was published about the same accident.

He pledged to the old man, Please, sir, send them a request along with your valid ID documents and ask them to send us the details of those two personnel who died in that accident."

After another fortnight, the old man received a reply, which stated, "After that accident, only the driver of that vehicle survived, and two army personnel died, but their bodies were found missing from that spot. Soon the addresses of those two personnel will be sent to you."

---

After obtaining the details, which were procured with the help of the old man, Banesingh first decided to go to one of the two addresses. And incidentally, he came to visit the ancestral village of his companion, who died in that accident. It was also a small village somewhere in northern Rajasthan. The river was found missing. And he noticed that the language of the locals was quite unknown to him.

"No, I never spoke this weird language; it's all Greek to me," he soliloquized. He understood that he had to start from scratch.

Thereafter, he was preparing to visit the next address. He was 'on pins and needles'. He came to visit his own ancestral village. The river was very much present. It was an October evening, and the crop residues were burned on the crop fields everywhere. There was sooty smoke all over. While approaching near some crop fields, he noticed a large Banyan tree, which he presumed was somewhat known to him. He could vaguely recognise their house and the farmyard.

On the field were Saransingh and his son. Through the smoky, slightly humid air, he could make out the silhouettes of two human figures: a man and a baby boy. He thought, "Who are they? I don't know them."

Exhausted and heartbroken, he returned to that hospital again, back to square one. His aspirations of meeting his near and dear ones were simply shattered. He broke into tears in front of the senior-most trustee, whom he adored very much.

The old man consoled him, saying, "My son, every cloud has a silver lining. We're all out here, all the people of our trust; aren't we your relatives right now? Don't you consider me as good as your uncle? Your work is so noble. People respect you so much. The Almighty had predestined all these for you. My son, don't lose heart; through your work, find solace. Since time immemorial, we have believed that all the happenings in an individual's life are already ordained in the cradle. My son, there is time yet and many small moments to savour. Always remember that you're not living in oblivion; we're always with you."

---

Not just years, but decades rolled by. By then, Jyotshna was married to an army officer, Karanjeet. He was posted somewhere in the northeast. One soldier in his platoon was badly wounded. His wounds were not healing properly. Through the intelligence personnel, Karanjeet was informed about the trust-run hospital in which Banesingh was working.

Banesingh was no longer known by his own name. Locals called him 'Dwro-Miyu', the 'medicine man'.

Karanjeet took his fellow army jawan to that hospital. He never hesitated to 'go the extra mile' when it came to the health of his fellow jawans. Banesingh was quite well known among the people of that area as the miraculous medicine man. One evening, Karanjeet came along with that jawan to meet him. Jyotshna was pregnant then; thus, she was told to sit inside the vehicle. Banesingh was attending to one patient who needed urgent attention. The two army personnel had to wait for some time.

As he started treating the jawan, Karanjeet received a mobile call. It was his wife's call. Out of boredom, she called him. Holding his mobile, Karanjeet moved towards the door, intending not to disturb the concentration of the medicine man. He picked up the call and said, "Jyotshna, please have patience; his treatment has just started. There were other patients too." Hearing the name 'Jyotshna, Banesingh reacted immediately. He lifted his head suddenly to see Karanjeet talking on his cell phone. The jawan noticed the unusual reaction of the medicine man, which he shared with his officer. Later, from the authorities, Karanjeet came to know about all the details of Banesingh, the miraculous wound-healer.

The wounds of that jawan were slowly cured. While discussing with that aged trustee, he presumed that the medicine man could be the lost Banesingh, Jyotshna's father. But he wanted to be doubly sure. Drastic times call for drastic measures. Therefore, with the help of one of his officer friends, an army doctor, he collected blood samples from Jyotshna. She was told that it was necessary for her medical assistance, etc.

Along with the army doctor, Karanjeet requested the authorities of that hospital to arrange for blood samples from Banesingh, the medicine man, but that should be kept totally confidential.

Hospital authorities kept their promise.

---

It was a winter afternoon when Jyotshna delivered twin healthy babies, a boy and a girl, in a well-equipped, cosy army hospital room. Karanjeet's parents were there to look after them.

After some days, Karanjeet joined his duty. And by the end of a couple of months, one fine morning, he received a call from his friend, the army doctor. With a lot of joyfulness in his voice, he said, "Mr. Karanjeet. Your wife's DNA and the DNA of the medicine man at that hospital are very closely matched."

Excited Karanjeet asked then and there, "Are you sure? How close is this matching?"

He replied, "Biologically speaking, it is as close as 'parent and child' or 'two siblings of the same parents, and there are no other possibilities."

"I'll be forwarding the reports through email." The army doctor further added

"Oh my god, I can't believe it; after all, we really found him." Karanjeet remarked.

After thanking the doctor, Karanjeet started browsing his Android set to check that particular mail in his e-mail inbox.

And then he disclosed the news to his wife through a phone call. He said, "Jyotshna, often you told me that none could find your father, for he is the master in 'hide-and-seek' play. But my dear, you'll be surprised to know that I really found him."

"Are you sure?" she shot back immediately.

Yes, I am. To make sure I've confirmed it through DNA tests too. Do you remember when your blood samples were collected?" Karanjeet calmly replied.

"I can't wait. I'd like to meet him right now." Jyotshna said it with a lot of excitation.

"Please wait for the next morning. We'll meet him there in that hospital." Karanjeet tried to convince her.

"Is he the miraculous medicine man? I'm going to meet him." Saying this, she disconnected the line. At that instant, she called a driver. She instructed one of the servants to keep the pram inside the trunk of the car. She requested that the nanny come along with her.

Karanjeet knew pretty well that she wouldn't wait for the next morning. It is aptly said, 'Blood is thicker than water.' Thus, he dialled in his mobile to call the octogenarian trustee of that hospital and requested, "Sir, please note that my wife has come to know that she is the real daughter of the medicine man, working in your hospital. We received the reports of DNA tests recently through an email. My wife is going to meet him soon. It's my ardent request; kindly cooperate."

 

Banesingh was called into the chamber of the senior-most trustee. With a composed voice, he told Banesingh, "Please sit down, my son. The hide-and-seek game is finally over. Cross your fingers. You will be very happy to know that finally, after all these years, they found your whereabouts, and now your daughter, Jyotshna, is coming to meet you."

Immediately after hearing the name 'Jyotshna, he shouted with joy, "Jyotshna, are you sure, uncle? My daughter Jyotshna is coming."

Pushing the handle of the special perambulator in which there were her twins, a baby boy and a baby girl. While entering through the main gate, she could clearly hear her father's voice.

Yes, that was the voice; her ears have been waiting for years for the sound of the voice of her dear papa.

She too shouted, tears of joy steadily rolling down her cheeks: "Yes, papa, I'm coming; I'm your Jyotshna. And see, papa, who else has come with me to receive you?"

                                            *******