The third heartbreak

I believe that all of us have suffered heartbreaks at some point or points in our lives but one day in a span of thirty six hours I had to endure three heartbreaks from women who I had met only for the first time in my life.

It was a Saturday and I received an email from the Examination department of the University where I was serving as an Assistant Professor. They directed me to come the next day on a Sunday for some invigilation duty in lieu of which I would receive a compensatory leave. I did not mind but could expect my wife to be very cross as we had some shopping plans for the next day. I had to balance both the pressing requirements and I did the best thing that I could think of. I took a half day leave that day and called my wife to inform her that I would come early and that we would have to pre-pone our shopping program to that day evening instead of Sunday morning as had been decided.

My half day leave application was accepted; I duly left the university premises at 1.00 pm and also got a private bus almost instantly to my stop in Ludhiana. The distance between Phagwara, where my university is located, and Ludhiana is not more than an hour and I calculated that I would be home much before 3.00 pm. I could then have my lunch, a good nap and then take my wife for shopping. I also decided to take her and my son to the movies if time would permit, in the evening.

“Man proposes, god disposes.”

Everything was going according to my plan when alas 20 kilometers before my stop in Ludhiana, my bus came to a sudden halt. I looked out of the window and saw a huge line of heavy and light vehicles. It was a traffic jam. Like other fellow passengers I waited for the jam to recede but we soon realized that it was more than just the normal traffic jam. I asked the conductor what the problem was. He told me that the farmers were on strike and they had blocked the traffic from there to Ludhiana. All the passengers including me boarded off the bus. My mobile phone had switched off and I did not know what to do. I hailed a shared auto rickshaw and asked him to reach me to the nearest town Phillaur as there was no point waiting in the middle of nowhere. In the auto I asked the auto-rickshaw driver how I could reach Ludhiana. The only suggestion he could give me was that I could go to the Phillaur railway station and wait for the next train which was due to arrive in the next one and a half hours. A co passenger in the auto-rickshaw, an old lady pleaded to him to take her to Ludhiana and he argued with her that he could not. Just then another auto rickshaw passed from there and he called out to him and asked him where he was going. The auto driver said that he was taking the passengers to Ludhiana via a long route that he knew of. My auto driver suggested to me and the old lady to take the other auto. We did so. In the auto the auto driver informed us that he could reach us only to the toll plaza of Ludhiana. From there we would have to arrange our reach to our respective stops in Ludhiana. I reasoned that in Ludhiana I would not have much problem in hiring an auto or a rickshaw.

We reached Ludhiana’s toll plaza. From the toll plaza to the closest settlement in Laddowal we could not find any ride.

“What should we do now?” The lady asked me. I looked back at her. Since when did she and I become a ‘we’. I was already quite stressed and she was last added baggage that I would want to carry with me. I told her that we had no option but to take the 20 minutes’ walk up to Laddowal and then to hope to get a ride from there. I started walking and saw that even she was following me with a small sack on her back. I realised that it was inhumane on my part to not help the lady who was old enough to be my mother. I slowed my pace to help her keep up with me. When we reached Laddowal we saw the farmers gathered there. I asked one of them how we could get to the city side of Ludhiana, they told us that it would be difficult for us to get a ride from there but if we could walk another 15 minutes then across the bridge the auto rickshaws were waiting to take passengers like us. I could walk but when I looked back at the old lady, I felt pity for her. She was completely exhausted and only dragging herself. She called up her son and asked him to pick her up but again she would have to cross the bridge because there was no place for any car or vehicle to reach there. There were a few cars already there and I went to each one of them and requested them to take the lady if they were going towards Ludhiana but in all the cars there were already too many passengers and they could not give the lady a lift. I could only ask the lady to take rest and we could start when she was feeling better. She did not rest for more than 5 minutes and we started. The walk was worse than I had thought. The up climb of the bridge was very exhausting for me too. Eventually we reached the other side of the bridge. I found her a place to sit and we waited for her son. She called up her son and he told her that he was quite near and would reach her in a short while.

“You may go.” She said to me nonchalantly. I was taken aback. I had expected her to offer me a lift as her son was coming in a car. I shrugged and asked her, “Auntie, can I use your mobile phone to make a phone call?”

“No son, you should go.” She said sternly. She apparently did not trust me with her mobile phone. I walked off and hailed an auto rickshaw. I saw her son come in a car which was completely empty. She saw me in the auto and looked away. “Go to hell.” I wanted to tell her. I reached home by 4.00 pm but I still had time for the nap and the shopping as planned.

The next day I reached the university by 8.30 pm. I had to report to the examination department before 8.45 otherwise disciplinary action could be initiated against me. I needed to hurry. I was taking long quick strides and did expect to reach my destination well in advance but on the way I happened to see a young girl crying. She was short, fair and looked very nervous. Although I did not have the time, I stopped to ask her why she was crying. She told me that she had come from Patiala(150 kms far from the university) to give her bank entrance exams and could not find the entrance to the block where her exam was scheduled. It was a small problem and I could take her there but I did not have the time. Humanity got the better of me and I told her to follow me. I was taking her to the entrance when she told me that she had already tried the entrance but it was closed. I knew of another entrance to the block and I took her there. However even that was closed and at the entrance there was a placard that read that the reporting time for the exam was before 8.15 am. and late comers would not be allowed. I asked her to show me her admit card and on it, it was clearly written that the reporting time was actually before 8.15 am. There was nothing that I could do and told her that she was indeed late. Although her exam was due to start at 9.00 am but rules did not permit her to enter the examination venue. Alas! I should not have said that and should have left but the girl angrily started arguing with me that the university was being ruthless and should be considerate. She soon lost all control and started shouting and rebuking the university to the extent where I felt that she was scolding me. I had a good mind to tell her that it was her fault for coming late and that my university was only following the rules laid down by Bank recruitment department: but I was getting late. I left her there and reached my destination just in the nick of time.

That evening when I came back home, my wife told me that we would have to go to the hospital to meet her colleague’s sister. The hospital was quite far from our home and even on car it was taking us half an hour to reach there. On the way my wife told me about the girl who we were going to visit. The girl was dying of cancer. She had been married for only one year. The first two months of her marriage had gone well but her cancer was detected in the third month of her marriage. Instead of feeling sorry for her plight, her in-laws and her husband were convinced that she must have been suffering from cancer from before the marriage and she and her parents had hidden this from them. They cursed her and her parents for blotting the marital status of her husband. They left her at her parent’s home, never to return. Even on her death bed the girl would remember the good, initial two months of her marriage when she had set herself for a beautiful life that lay ahead of her. She knew that she did not have long to live but her only wish was to meet her in-laws and her husband to tell them that she had never intended to deceive them and that she was sorry. She would also tell her mother that her funeral pyre should be lit by her husband. They could not tell her that they had tried their best to convince her in-laws to meet her once before her death but the heartless family had only refused and abused them whenever they had tried to reach out to them.

We reached the hospital late. I could not get a chance to see her. She had been taken home as the doctors had given up. This girl and her story was the third heartbreak I had suffered in the last 36 hours. I had forgotten the first two heartbreaks but the third heartbreak was too much for me to bear. I have lost all faith in humanity since then.