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Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #1282996
a narration of the journey from triviality to importance - set in sambalpur, orissa, india
Mom! Who is Panchanan?
My 6 year old daughter was asking her mother
Though me and my wife Sri are both tired of answering her questions, this being a different question, Sri  raised her head from the cleaning work she has been doing since morning (mostly my books), and  answered - lord Hanuman.
Sitting in the other room I shouted,
“even it could be lord Shiva as well”. 
Without seeing my little daughter, I could imagine her face and the puzzle when mom and dad give different answers. 
“Panchanan means one who has five faces; ananam in Sanskrit means face, pancha is five” I went on explaining. 
Where is panchanan? Again my daughter’s voice. 
What is that book in your hand? My wife’s voice again. 
Suddenly I ran into the other room to confirm what flashed in my mind.  The little phone book my daughter holding in her hand……. 
My fingers traced the words  in the first page of the 10 year old phone book.
“ Who is Panchanan?”, sri asked with a curiosity!!!!
Shiva and Hanuman – my daughter’s voice did’t amuse me. 

……

The rickshaw in which I was traveling was making a creeking sound as if it could’t bear my weight though I am 55 kg only.  It’s a rainy morning of July, when I reached Sambalpur in Orissa, for a 3 month practical training stint as part of probation with LIC of India. I was a bit excited for being in such a place for the first time outside my state of Andhra Pradesh.  The guest house I need to check in is 10 mins rikshaw drive from the small railway station.  May be due to a long gap since my last rikshaw ride, I felt the journey is for half an hour and the creeking sound of the rikshaw still made the movement slow.  I could see the sweat drops flowing on the back of the rikshaw puller and a sort of guilty feeling enveloped me, infact  the same feeling with which I stopped getting into rikshaws. Here I didt had an option.  Giving more than he demanded for , I hesitantly  walked into the large compound that houses the guest house. The dampness on the ground due to rains and the moss in green colour everywhere around.. to the barks of the trees, to the compound walls and to the pipelines slightly gave an odd feeling which I tried to overcome by looking around for people.  A short young man wearing shorts and a cut baniyan ran towards me and asked,–
from kolkata??? Murli ji? 
With a relieved face, I said ya!!!!
He pushed his hand loosely towards me giving a hand shake and said – “pandey!! Care taker of this guest house”. 
Though his hindi has a oriyan slang, I could easily catch up with it.  Pandey quickly took the luggage from my hands and started walking towards the allotted room. It seems he has just finished cleaning the room.  The room has an mixed odor of the dampness of the climate, oldness of the structure as well as the furniture and some grass and plants surrounding the area.  The toilet is big and better than the room. Pandey dashed my hopes of a kitchen/mess attached to the guest house with a smile that came with a hiss of air coming from the emptiness of his front row teeth. 
“We have an electric heater and all, I prepare my food here only. But to the guests !!!!! there are many hotels on the main road” said Pandey
when pandey speaks before his words, first the air gushes out and it eclipses the first words.  I was amused to see the phenomenon than listening what he is telling. 
You are from Bengal na!! no problem for you said Pandey -  I interrupted Pandey, saying that am from Hyderabad, Andhra Pradesh. 
Oh!! Madaras!!!! He told.
I got a bit annoyed and again told not a madarasi, Hyderabadi I stressed. 
How far is Madras from your place? Asked Pandey. 
Very far!! I quipped,
3-4 hrs journey? again he asked!!!!
Controlling my irritation again I told, 13-14 hrs journey. 
Many officers do come here for some thing or the other. I know the Zonal Manager, Sr Div manager, pandey is walking with me to the main gate.
I told him , “am new to LIC and I don’t know anyone”.
You will soon know all of them saab!!!  Don’t worry.
Any south Indian hotels here?, I asked Pandey. 
Ha!! One, near the phatak (bridge) “new udupi hotel” is good it seems!! check if u get ur idlys and dosas.  Its very posh, I did’t go inside pandey showed the direction and started his cycle in the other direction. 
Me being from south and a tested gilbert syndrome specimen, i take a lot of care in choosing my food.  Consciousness makes life difficult!!! I felt.  Took a quick shower and ventured out to find the hotel.

The owner of the hotel is from Puri, a young entrepreneur sort, has a reasonably good English.  The joy of finding a good place to eat got compounded when the owner offered, “I can send a parcel to the LIC guest house in the night if you want.  You can tell the timing, our boy will come and give. You can give the money to him.- I felt as if one big burden is removed from my heart…
I am really surprised to see the young man who is a post graduate and opening a hotel in a district head quarter in orissa. According to him, he is studying the local market and planning to attend a Dosa making session at some Hotel in Bombay!!! Some more sessions outside.   

The fast changing India!!! 
With a joyful whistle I walked back to the room, as one big tension about food is over.

That day night  at eight sharp, a boy from the hotel brought the dinner parcel.  I called up the hotel owner and thanked him for starting the services from that day itself. 
Don’t give any extra money to the boy, the price I quoted to you involves his charge also, said the owner and thanked me for the call.
The boy in his early teens with a funky hair style, a bit tall in built leaned to the wall and watched the TV in the room while I was picking the required money. 
How did you come? I enquired the boy and he told hesitantly, cycle!!!
Ok go back safely, its slippery. 
The boy looked at me as if thanking and left the place.  The next day when the same boy brought dinner,
I asked him – “what is your name??
his hindi is also like Pandey’s hindi, oriyan slang. 
“ Panchanan” said the boy. 
Who is Panchanan? I asked. 
Shivji – said the boy.
No, it is lord Hanuman I told remembering the Panchamukha Anjaneya temples and pictures in Andhra Pradesh. 
No sab!! Its shivji, there is a temple on the main road, panchananeswar temple!!! Panchanan tried to prove his point.
With a smile, cutting the argument I told him, ok, bye, go back safely.

The next day morning when I went to the hotel to have my breakfast, Panchanan beamed a special known smile and quickly tried to make me comfortable while the fellow serving boys looked at him a bit jealously.  After 3-4 days one day night while delivering the parcel, Panchanan gave a pause and said –
saab!! “I want a telephone book. I want to write the phone numbers. You will get lot of books in your office na. kindly give me one”
I got surprised with his audaciousness and asked – who told you that I will be getting lot of books from office???
He could sense the mild irritation in my voice it seems, with a toned down voice he told, “no saab!!! I want a telephone book, if u get in your office give me one please” he told again. 
Without showing much enthusiasm I told “ok let me see.  Other wise I will buy one for you” I told. 
No saab, don’t buy, if you get in your office only give me, other wise no – Panchanan was a bit forceful.

The next day when I went for breakfast, Panchanan’s extra care made me suspicious that is this fellow trying to please me for the phone book??? I started becoming uncomfortable. 
After a week or so, again Panchanan reminded me, “saab!! that phone book  I asked na, could you get it”?
Without prolonging the discussion I told, I will get one soon. Don’t worry!!!
Frankly speaking,  I did’t give much importance to his request till that time.  I had been to the stationery shop in that week, but, the phone book did’t come to my mind at all. Let’s buy one small book and give it to this fellow , I decided.  One more week passed.  This week, though I had the intention, I could not buy the book due to busy training schedules and all. When ever I saw his face that whole week, I started feeling, as if, I owe something to him.  His eyes seemed to me as if questioning me “did you buy that book or not?”  Unlike before, as I have decided that I am going to buy a book for him, I could quickly answer the uncomfortable ness.    I thought I can buy the book when I go to the stationery shop next week. Many times I crossed the shop in the next 10 days, but, one reason or the other, one hurry or the other, I quickly skipped the place, noting every time that I should buy the telephone book to that fellow.  The fateful day when I went to the stationery shop to buy my requirements, after buying all items, finally I asked if telephone books are available  in the shop.  Glancing through the books showed by the shop fellow, I could select one which seemed simple, meeting the “unknown requirements” of the boy and asked the price.  “Rs 15/- the shop fellow said”
With a doubt I checked my wallet and found that I am short of Rs 4/- to buy that phone book. With a satisfaction of selecting the book I returned that day without buying the phone book, thinking that I can buy the next day.  Again 4 days passed and I could answer myself that, I am about to buy, but, money was not sufficient, anyway next time am going to buy it.  As if accustomed to my empty promise, Panchanan also stopped asking me about the phone book. I pitied the boy!!!!
one day night, as if a revelation from unknown places, I tried to imagine how satisfied will be Panchanan’s face when he receives the book. I tried to imagine the depth of gratitude he may show. Suddenly a strong determination came in me. What is this !! a small thing that could give a big happiness to a small boy, am postponing?? Tomorrow I should finish this job.  The next day with the same  determination  I went and bought the telephone book which I selected the other day. That night, to my misery, Panchan did’t come. Raghu, a replacement for Panchana came and delivered the parcel.
“Where is Panchanan?” I asked with a little irritation.
Panchanan, did’t come saab!!! the new boy left quickly. 
The next day before going to the hotel, I put the phone book carefully in my pocket and checked in the mirror, if the book is visible outside the pocket or through the cloth.  It is not.  To my disappointment I could not find Panchanan that day in the hotel.  Hiding my disappointment, I finished my breakfast and quickly walked out, unknowingly waiting for the night dinner parcel.  That day night, when the door bell rang, with an expectation to see Panchanan, I opened the door and was very much disappointed to see Raghu instead of Panchanan. 
Where is Panchan? Why he did’t come? I asked Raghu. 
Panchanan!!!! He left the hotel, without divulging much the boy made a quick exit. 
Left the Hotel??? But why?  Must have gone on leave or something? May be. not feeling well and took leave and this new boy does’t know that? 
An unknown attachment echoed somewhere in me.  Next day morning I went to the hotel as usual, putting the telephone book in pocket.  Unable to find any trace of Panchanan, I approached the owner --- 
where is panchanan?? These days I don’t find him.. enquiringly I asked.

Panchan!! He was kicked out – casually told the owner. 
Kicked out!!! With a hidden anxiety I repeated the words.  Why?? I asked slowly. 
That fellow, a thief – if we keep him he will start stealing the cash also.  Two days back he  has stolen my new telephone diary which I left at the cash counter and went out.  Today it’s a book, tomorrow, it could be anything – the owner with a  casual furiousness was telling to me, while taking cash from another customer.
A sudden emptiness swept me.  I started trembling. I could feel a flush of guilty feeling trying to come out from my eyes. Controlling my emotions behind the spectacles, I wanted to explain him how much Panchanan longed for the telephone book. But, a lump sort of a thing has shut my voice and with a mix of feelings I walked out of the hotel.  Slight drizzle started.  Unknowingly tears sprang from my eyes.  As if to mix the tears with the rain drops and pretend my composure, I took off the spectacles and looked to the sky.  The sky looked dark and dull.  With a hurried slowness I reached the room.  Felt like crying and yelling out that I am the guilt, I am the guilt,  Panchanan is innocent!!!!  My crying and yelling got internalized and echoed in me only.  After a long gap,  I opened the telephone book.  Wiping the spectacles, I took my favourite black parker pen and wrote ---
Name : Panchanan
Address:    unknown
In the page marked M – I opened and wrote – Murali saab – 9884306513.
© Copyright 2007 murali vakkalanka (vakkalanka.m at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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