Free Murmur of the Lonely Brook by Debashis Dey Page B

The blessings of Devta will be with me.”
    Parvati opened a can and gave him some nuts.
    Diwakar got up and waved good-bye to everyone. “I will see you all at the temple,” he shouted from the gate.
    Outside, two other men were waiting. The three went to the temple to seek blessings from Devta. Today was the day for Mother Goddess and they would go up the hill beyond which she originated. The road started at the back of the village. It ran parallel to the stream that served as a source of water for the entire village. The initial climb was easy. There was a narrow pathway often used by the villagers. Emerald patches of grass covered the route with small marsh marigolds popping out here and there in clusters. The stream ran down silently except for some sparkling protests against a few boulders in its way. Villagers also diverted part of the stream with boulders in order to serve another location where they had their winter homes. Very soon, they crossed the hillock and were on top of a clear opening.
    “Let’s take a short break,” said Kiran, one of the boys. This was his second time making the trip.
    Others nodded and everyone sat on the rocks. Diwakar looked around and could see that the village was not visible from where they were, although he could see the road. He could also see the distant peaks with meadows on them. From a distance, a herd of roaming sheep seemed like white dots. In front of them stood the dark granite peak in all its majesty. The top was sharp and jagged, eroded by the wind for a million years. The pathway ran through a dense pack of deodars and oaks.
    ***
    Ria was up early and, to everyone’s surprise, took a shower. She knew she had to go early. She was sure the boy would be there waiting for her. She hoped that he would speak with her. Before she fell asleep the night before, she had rehearsed a hundred times; what she would say; how he would react; what could go wrong; how she would correct it. She went over it again and again until she was sure she had the perfect lines. She also made certain that she would not do or say anything that gave away how deeply she was in love with him.
    “Aama, give me food, I have to leave soon.”
    “Why so early? There’s no one at the temple now.”
    “My friends will be there.”
    Parvati gave her food. She was in no mood to deliberate. She loved watching her daughter grow up as much as she loved all her children. Sometimes she took a few rupees from her savings to buy a packet of maggi for her, just to see the smile on her face whenever she served her noodles.
    “Aama, give me two rupees, I need to buy something.” She needed to buy a strip of bindis. She planned to show off her striped red jacket that came with a red hood. Her friends said she looked awesome in that outfit. Only a red bindi was missing. Ria did not have the typical Kinnauri look. Her face partly reflected her mother’s Tibetan lineage. She had a round, oval face with narrow eyes, which mostly disappeared when she laughed. But there was an innocent glow about her that radiated when she spoke.
    ***
    Diwakar stood up; they couldn’t sit for long. The three moved up the narrow path, one behind the other. Huge boulders lay on either side of the trail. Sunlight came through the greenery, and finches and wagtails hopped around in the grass looking for food. Yellow and blue poppies, wooly and furry catmints peeked through the grass and violets braced the sunny underside of the rocks. A group of langurs screeched in the distance. Diwakar saw one sitting on an oak tree observing them, its white, silvery body with black face and long tail etched against the sky. The langurs fed on oak leaves and young shoots. They were afraid of humans and lived away from villages.
    A while later, the men reached another bend and a clearing where they stopped. It was noon and all of them were thirsty. They went down to the stream for water. Diwakar passed on nuts to his friends. They sat on a huge rock