Pelora Valley
Pelora Valley
This was an unexpected visit for Arya but rather
expected for her colleagues. Getting late for the office, dozing off in meetings, and messing up with files had become her routine for a week.
On one of those uncertain days, the manager of the sales
department called Arya and advised her to either take a vacation or work
from home. Arya was more than happy to
choose a vacation.
But it wasn’t going to be a vacation in any way.
Arya’s grandfather who lived in the Pelora Valley had fallen seriously
ill. Which had become a point of misery for Arya too.
The same day she left for the Pelora Valley. In the eastern part of the country, beyond the vast stretches of tea gardens there, lay
this small Valley, with a population of around 500 people and thousands of
untold stories.
When Arya entered the gloomy little house which her
grandfather had made after his retirement from the Indian Army, what she saw was unexpected. While
her last visit two years back her grandfather had been fine as a young man but now she
could see him from the hall in the bedroom lying with a bag of ice and taking
his pills.
The visit was a surprise for her grandfather too. He
sat up on his bed and waved with a weak smile.
Arya ran up to hug him. His body was warm
in the cold weather of Pelora Valley.
The next ten days went by in high spirits, Grandpa was
recovering at a nice pace now. He used to tell Arya her childhood stories and
his experience being an army officer. Arya also found a comfortable space to
express her emotions. “Dada, maybe I should leave my job and come here, we’ll
open a candy shop in front of the house” Grandpa laughed “Maybe you should wait
until you retire”
On the eleventh day, Arya went for a walk, her mind clearer. It was a beautiful day and she could not resist it, the birds
chirped, and a small stream was flowing near the unruly road. She could imagine the
six-year-old herself learning to ride a bicycle with her grandfather, falling, and then getting helped by her grandfather who was then, as fit as a twenty-year-old.
In the last two years, no one but Grandpa had grown
like two decades.
She heard a thud as she entered the house and ran to
the bedroom. Grandpa had fallen while trying to go to the kitchen, the maid had
also come to help, but Grandpa didn’t need two people to help him sit, he was
now as light as a bundle of clothes. Apparently, he was feeling dizzy and had
taken a break for a nap.
At around 2pm Grandpa called Arya “I don’t think I’ll
be able to live anymore Arya”
“Why do you say that?”
“I know you have to leave in two days beta, the last time you left, I transformed from a twenty-year-old to a ninety-year-old, and
the next time you will come for my death rite. I can’t walk and there have been
days and I haven’t even stepped out of the house”
Arya sat quietly, and within one hour Grandpa was
asleep again.
This time she took a walk to clear her mind. She was formidable now, maybe Grandpa is right…
She sat at the edge of the street where the stream was
flowing straight from the Himalayas and separating from a much bigger river. As
she looked at the stream her thoughts started to clear up, and ideas started to
come up.
She immediately ran back to the house and asked the
maid where the metal workshop was, unfortunately, there was no such workshop
nearby, but Arya considered an alternate way and asked where the carpenter
worked, it was nearby. She also asked where the PCO was so that she could call
her brother, parents, and the office manager. She asked the maid to not leave Grandpa
until she returns.
While returning from the carpenter in the evening, she saw children playing by a small field. Just then a girl fell
down and her knee started to bleed. Fortunately, she had some extra Band-Aid
and cotton in her purse. The reason for the injury was a big stone embedded in
the ground.
When Arya returned, Grandpa was asleep and had already
had his dinner. Arya lit some candles and went to the field behind the house
which Grandpa owned but never used. She took some tools and cleaned the field
from the stones and ferns. She also tightened the fences and also replaced the
wires with a strong fabric rope. In the roof shed, she put a table that her
grandpa never used and set a stone board.
She knew Grandpa loved children and taught them with crucifixion. And this would prove to bring life back to him and give her back the strong man she always wanted to be like.
The next morning Grandpa woke up to the sound of chortling children, he sat on his bed and put his glasses on. There was a
wooden wheelchair with an Indian Army symbol. Tears flooded his eyes and he
tried to sit in the wheelchair but lost control, in a split second there were
two strong hands holding his arms, at first he thought they were of Arya’s or
of the maid, the hands helped him sit on the wheelchair.
But when he looked up he saw the smiling face of his grandson, Mitesh. Mitesh took him to the backyard of the house.
Arya and the valley children were playing ball but as he appeared they all sat in rows as if out of fear of a teacher and said in a union in broken English – “Good morning sir”. Grandpa touched the chalks and the duster on the table with child-like enthusiasm as he teared up.
“Why don’t you give them a lesson or two
dada?”, Mitesh said
The smile Arya saw next was one of hope and a declaration of not one but many new lives....
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I wanted to express my gratitude to everyone supporting me on my journey. Your kind words and encouragement mean more than you know! If anyone has any feedback or ideas for future posts, I would love to hear them in the comments below.