Read Online Murmur of the Lonely Brook by Debashis Dey - Free Book Online Page B

laughing.
    Shevak sat drinking tea at Lalaji’s shop. He was watching Ravi, a Nepali day laborer who earned just enough to keep his head above water. He was of the habit of beating his young wife daily. He had serious doubts that she slept with his boss, the supervisor, while he was on duty. He was strong and stout but had a foul mouth. But today he was jovial. It did not matter if the festival was local. He was working here and wanted to have a share of the fun. And since it was a three-day holiday, he had drunk a full bottle in the morning. He lost one shoe somewhere and now stood with only one shoe on. He started introducing every visitor to the shop in an amusing style. Balbir was coming back from the tailor with a new jacket that was specially made for the festival. Ravi stopped him on the road.
    “Here goes our Lord Krishna, the great sarathi (Chariot Driver).” He touched his feet, stretching fully on the road.
    He did not spare Shevak. “Here sits Lord Indra with Bajra (thunder) in his hand.” Shevak worked with the electricity board.
    At home, Parvati and Nisha put on their gray dhurries (heavy gray blankets), which they wrapped around their whole bodies. On top, they put on shawls with colorful borders. Parvati had a shawl with three borders that her mother had given her. The more borders, the more expensive it was. Nisha’s shawl had one border, but she looked charming in whatever she wore. They also put on necklaces with large gold beads and earrings. Nisha normally wore a nose-ring, which highlighted her sharp features. Nisha looked at the mirror and felt sad. What good it is for her to dress so well if Pravin never saw it? She wanted to see the smile in his face—the same smile she saw when once she dressed for him to visit the monastery at Peo. Pravin was a man of few words but she could tell from his eyes. Both Parvati and Nisha started for the temple. Ria was already gone and playing with the other young people.
    It was afternoon when Devta came out. Bugles, cymbals, and drums preceded the procession; two bearers carried him in his seat. The main pujari (priest), the Gur, followed Devta, while a few more people went behind with two sheep. Devta came out of the village and soon crossed to the other side of the river. He rested on a hill near a small shrine, which was empty of gods or idols inside. This shrine represented a powerful god, more powerful than Devta, once worshipped by a saint who came in a white robe. His power was visible, as there were no snakes on this side of the river. It was late afternoon and a fog slowly floated in. The shrine party set up a small tent and arranged logs for the fire. A few women mixed wheat flour with water for making poltu.
    Shevak walked along with other folks to the venue. He was wearing his gray jacket and green topi and had shaved that morning. After Dawa gave him a haircut, he helped Dawa with one. The group reached the venue and squatted on the grass. Nearly all the men were there and sitting in groups—some in rocks near the river, some near the Devta—while the young roamed around freely. Only a few girls were there. The village custom did not allow women to take part in rituals and they always remained slightly removed from the Devta unless advised otherwise by the Gur.
    Two men got up and raised their brass bugles in the air. The curved bugles glistened in the evening like two giant snakes. Their high-pitched sounds pierced the silence of the surrounding peaks. A bunch of barbets flapped their wings and escaped the comfort of their nests. Everyone looked up and saw the three men running down the hillside. The drummers started beating their drums, intoxicating the crowd in a slow beat. The bearers lifted Devta while everyone moved in to the venue. Soon, the three men came down, each carrying a bundle of flowers wrapped in a cloth. They all wore topis bedecked with white flowers.
    The flower boys reached the shrine, where the pujari met them. Two men took