Chapter 7

The sky had been overcast since morning. Diwakar woke up to the baritone bleat of the baby lamb accompanied by the kid. Parvati and Nisha were already up. Nisha was making pancakes.

“Let’s cut and bring in the buckwheat before it rains,” Parvati said.

“Yes, Aama,” said Nisha as she served food for all.

“I am worried about Chotu,” Parvati said. Even if she did not like his temper, she always felt concern for her children.

“Don’t worry, Aama, he should be fine,” Nisha said.

“Yes, I have full faith in Aaté,” added Diwakar.

Nisha looked at Diwakar affectionately—she knew that this man also had the same conviction about Pravin and her confidence increased. Everyone in the house saw that Nisha prayed with folded hands and closed eyes every morning in front of the Devta’s photo. But what she prayed for was anybody’s guess. The one and only thing she prayed for was Pravin’s success—she knew that her well-being depended on his finding employment. She also knew that she had done nothing wrong in her life for the gods not to be pleased with her and not to grant her wishes. Her life centered around him, and he was her universe.

Parvati folded a big plastic sheet and passed it to Diwakar. She took a big strainer and a few sacks. Nisha packed lunch, tea and biscuits, and soon they left the house.

Ria was awake but still in bed. These days she looked forward to her school trip. It was the only thing that meant anything to her. The night seemed longer; the class periods seemed longer, as if they would never finish. She sat dreaming all day and looking out the window. The grass, the clouds, and the trees all came with a new meaning and everything seemed beautiful. She anxiously waited for those few minutes after school when Jeet, whose name she got from her friend, would come out and they would exchange that short glance sometimes coupled with a smile. Nowadays she did not look the other way but returned his smile.

This happened after Fulaich. On the last day of the festival the villagers danced on the road and people came out of their houses with gifts—a packet of biscuits or a chocolate or even a bottle of liquor. Ria was standing near the door when the dancers passed. A group of boys followed them and Jeet was in the team. He smiled at her. A few moments later a small child came running to her and gave her a bar of chocolate.

“Why are you giving me this?” Ria had asked.

“It’s not from me. Your friend said to give this to you,” he said, pointing to the group.

Ria looked and Jeet turned back and waved at her. She blushed and ran inside. She would not eat the chocolate; this was the first gift from her love. She kept it in her small box of bangles. At night, she slept with the chocolate bar under her pillow.

***

The clouds came from across one peak and floated behind another. Sometimes the sun was able to break through. It was the harvest season and the fields were full of all kinds of vegetables. Potato fields with bright white flowers, green peas with fat pods ready to burst, radish, gourds, garlic, cabbage, all different shades of green. The buckwheat stood out among them with its bright pink blossoms. The birds flew from one field to another. The pines stood proudly with young green cones while the oaks and poplars nodded with the occasional winds.

Parvati took out the plastic and all three laid it in a rough square in one corner. Diwakar brought the dried buckwheat plants in bunches and beat them against the plastic. The wheat separated from the plants. Nisha set them in a pile while Parvati set the rest of the plant, now dark brown in color, in another lot. These would be tied later and kept on the rooftop for further drying. During winter, these served as food for the cattle. Once the pile of wheat was large enough, Diwakar moved a bit and started another.

Parvati came over with the strainer and waved at Nisha. “Please help me here.”

Nisha squatted down and, filling the strainer, passed it on to Parvati, who was standing. Parvati shook it to remove the dirt and husks, then set the cleaned wheat in another pile.

She made a grim face and said, “We will have hardly three sacks this time.”

“But we have Fapra (wild buckwheat) too, don’t we, Aama?”

“There won’t be much of that either.”

This went on until the lot was cleaned up. Then both women put the husks in a sack for the cattle. Diwakar had moved farther down, making piles of wheat in a row. The kid and the lamb showed no interest in the buckwheat but jumped around the greens in all their youthfulness.

Working in the field was new to Nisha, as in her village her father could afford to hire laborers. But she was enjoying every bit of it. She remembered Pravin telling her how he hated farm work and how desperate he was to run away from the village. She wondered if he would ever come back except for a few days in a year and whether he would ever take her along with him. She left it to the gods to decide.

***

Ria decided to make a card for Jeet. She would draw something attractive on the cover and write a message inside. She took a piece of white paper and folded it. The first thing she tried to draw was a range of peaks with the sun. But soon she filled up the whole paper. She wanted to put in a few more things but there was no room left. She erased and tried again with no luck. She decided to ask Nisha to help her. She would decide later what to write inside but it should not be too obvious. Just a plain wish or some nice words. She was dying to meet him alone. She had so many questions.

She went to the kitchen for food. She saw the pancakes but wasn’t in the mood for them. Instead, she took out the packet of noodles Nisha gave her. She loved maggi too. She decided that after marriage they should have maggi once a day stuffed with onions, tomatoes, and chilies.

***

Shevak sat with a few others at Lalaji’s shop. Everyone was worried. This year the offers received for the apples were very low, a mere three hundred per crate. This was mostly due to the heavy rains, which spoiled the harvest and caused a few of the orchards to fall to disease. Apples were the main cash crop in this region.

“In Sangla they are getting five hundred per crate,” Naresh said.

“That is because they have a better crop,” said Balbir.

“In the city they sell these crates for two thousand and more!” said Shevak.

“We will never get a good price,” grumbled Naresh.

“Yes, as long as the thikedars (brokers) rule the trade. They know the greedy among us who take advance orders and agree to such low rates!” said Shevak angrily.

“We can’t stop the thikedars, nor the fools among us,” said Rajaram, who had been listening to this exchange.

“I have plucked my apples and been waiting for the past five days. If needed, I will take my apples to Delhi. The price is always better and I have taken them to Delhi before,” said Shevak.

“That’s a better idea. But my apples are few and infected. Maybe I will use them all for liquor this year,” Balbir said.

Everyone laughed and Naresh ordered tea for all.

“Some years we get good rates and some years low. We have to live with this,” he said.

***

Parvati started filling the sacks. Four and a half sacks resulted from her effort, her sweat, and her labor. There were three bags of husks that took even more space. “This load is quite big. Diwa, go and ask your father to send two laborers. They should carry most of these,” she said.

“Okay, Aama.”

Diwakar set off in a light jog. Parvati and Nisha collected the hay and started making bundles, tying them with vines. The bundles had to be carried back and placed on the roof for drying. But that could wait, as the sky was dark.

“I will have to go home. The peas and spinach all need to be put inside. You wait for Diwa. The laborers will carry most of it,” said Parvati.

She picked up a sack of husks and tied it to her back with her shawl. The kid and the lamb followed her.

Diwakar came back with two Nepali men. Meanwhile Nisha had tied all the hay and was sitting on the grass. Both of them helped the laborers pick up the sacks and Diwakar told them to drop the sacks at home.

He smiled at Nisha and said, “I am tired; let’s go to the stream.”

Nisha joined him to walk to the stream. It was late evening with an overcast sky and a gentle wind blowing. They crossed the field and took a narrow path through boulders, bushes, and wild grass until they reached the stream. The ice-cold water from the glaciers was nearing its journey to meet the river that flowed down through the gorges below. Both sat on a big rock. Diwakar looked at the peaks, the pines, and the deodars standing tall, kissed by clouds.

Without looking at Nisha, he said, “I want to build a small house in those hills.”

“And then?”

“Then run away with you.”

“They will surely find us,” Nisha said laughing.

“We will sit by the river, eat fruits, and sleep in the trees.”

“And sometimes on the grass below the trees,” Nisha said, looking at him. He was dreaming but she was sharing his dream.

“I will light the fire every evening and you will dance.”

“I don’t know how to dance.” Nisha smiled and tried to visualize his dream. She liked his innocence.

The air stood still while the clouds came down and covered the valley. In a few moments, a few white dots hit the ground. Diwakar looked at Nisha and said, “It’s snowing.”

Nisha looked in wonder. She extended her palm and tried to hold on to the snow. Tiny dots of white floated, crisscrossing each other in the air before they came down. The peaks disappeared in a mystic fog. The first few flakes melted on the ground. The snow fell on the trees and made a pitter patter sound on the leaves. It was getting cold. Diwakar moved closer to Nisha and put an arm around her. She did not move. She looked at the stream where the snow formed tiny ripples and smiled. Diwakar looked at the dimple forming and kissed her on the cheek. It was an impulse. She shivered a little but did not move. While Diwakar was lost in her beauty, Nisha was enjoying his innocence and the warmth of love. She moved closer. The mountains sent a stream of emotions with the melted glacier engulfing them. Both sat still.

After a while, Nisha said, “We must go, it’s getting late.”

Both got up and walked, clasping their hands like two children. The light snowfall continued for a while and then stopped. When they reached the fields, it was over but the clouds remained.

***

Shevak was worried, as were many others. This untimely snowfall was not good. It spelled bad news for the crops. But he was relieved when it stopped. He ordered a tea, lit up a bidi, and tried calling Pravin. But Pravin’s phone was still switched off and Shevak felt restless. He was more worried about Parvati, who nagged him constantly. He remembered last night. Parvati was waiting for him when he entered the room.

“Did you get any news of Chotu?” she had asked.

“I will tell you when I do.”

“Did you call him up?”

“Yes, I did, but his phone was turned off,” he replied angrily.

“Only God knows where he is, and whether he is eating and sleeping properly,” she sighed.

“Now don’t start nagging! He is old enough to take care of himself,” he said, raising his voice.

“You can always call Anil and ask him to look around.”

Shevak lost his temper. He was not someone to take advice from a woman.

“Why don’t you shut up, you old junk? You don’t have much inside your head except cow dung! Let me do the thinking and let me decide whom I should call. Don’t bother me, just let me sleep.”

Shevak thought for a while and called Anil at Peo.

“He is in Solan and working somewhere,” Anil assured him when Shevak asked about Pravin.

“Do you have a number?”

“Not at the moment, but I will get a number for you soon.”

Shevak had a feeling that Anil was not telling the truth. He said he would call again and disconnected.

***

Nisha and Diwakar reached home, each with two bundles of hay on their backs.

“Aama, I am hungry. Please boil some potatoes,” Diwakar said.

Parvati placed a few jacket potatoes in a vessel of water and set it on the bukhari. She took out a garland made of almonds and walnuts. Such garlands were given and worn during festivals and celebrations like marriage. Everyone kept them for use later. Parvati removed the nuts and crushed them with a stone pestle. She mixed some garlic, chilies, and mint leaves and made a hot dip. She knew her son loved it. Nisha sat next to the fire to take the chill off. Parvati took out a few potatoes and placed them on a plate. Diwakar removed the skin and passed the plate to Nisha.

“Aama, you go, and I will clean the plates.”

Nisha cleaned the plates and then sat next to the fire watching Diwakar fiddling with his phone. Diwakar looked at her and smiled. He came and sat next to her. Both sat next to each other trying to read the silence. After a while, Nisha got up.

“Now you sleep.” She smiled at him and left.

In the room, Ria fiddled with the card she had made and wondered what she should write inside. She saw Nisha coming and passed her the card and a pencil.

“Please draw something.”

“What is this?”

“A card for someone. Please help me,” she pleaded.

Though Nisha was tired, she smiled and sat down with Ria.

“What do you want me to draw?”

“Anything… hills, rivers, sun, clouds, whatever you can.”

Nisha drew some peaks with the sun between two of them. She never had any drawing lessons at school, but Ria was impressed.

“You draw so well. Please draw some trees, houses, and…and a few flowers.” Nisha complied. She looked at Ria and asked, “What else?”

Ria thought for a while and said, “Why not put in our baby goat too?”

“But I don’t know how to draw a goat.”

“Please try. You can do it; you draw so well!”

Nisha drew the head but she was unable to do the rest.

“I will help you,” Ria said.

Ria bent down with her hands and knees on the floor and burst out laughing. “Okay, hold it for a while, I’ll try.”

Finally the drawing of the goat was done. Ria took out a few colored pencils and Nisha finished the drawing.

“Who is this for?” Nisha asked.

“Someone,” said Ria and turned the other way.

Knowing she would not get any further response from Ria, Nisha suggested they go to bed.

Nisha remembered her school days. Her village was small and boys and girls were made to sit in different groups. In higher classes the girls sat in separate sections. Though a few girls chatted with the boys, she never felt the urge to join in. Her complexion was fairer than average and she was tall. She also knew that many boys stole glances at her but she always looked the other way. And in college she always kept to her studies and spent her spare time reading books, which she borrowed from the library. Most of them were on mythology and she read them over and over again. It saw just a few movies with her friends, and then she met Pravin, which changed her world.

Diwakar was sleeping near the fire but in his mind, he was still sitting on the rock near the stream. With Nisha. He wanted to leave everything behind and go away with her. Just her and no one else. He imagined building a small wooden cottage with a slate roof. He would stack stones for a boundary wall and plant wild roses along the edge. There would be a few goats, lambs and cows, a rhododendron tree in the courtyard with pink blossoms, and a swing below it. A wooden gate would open to a pathway lined with poplars and oaks and leading to a river. Diwakar and Nisha would follow this path every evening and sit on a rock by the river. He decided to plant a wild berry tree next to the rock so the birds would come and fill the place with bird song. Inside the house he planned just one room, a big room with a fireplace in the center; a bed on one side and a large window on one of the walls. The window would frame the distant mountains. Nisha would dance around the fire while he watched. And then they would sleep next to the fire, he and Nisha, with their arms around each other.

Diwakar was half-asleep and half lost in thought when he felt the push. He woke up and saw Shevak standing over him.

“It’s snowing again and this time it’s heavy. We need to move out now.”

The snowfall was untimely and the apple trees still had their leaves. The leaves held on to the snow and the branches would give way if it was heavy enough. They either broke or got damaged and twisted with weight. This was a big loss as it took five to seven years for a healthy branch to grow strong enough to hold the apples. This did not happen if the snowfall came at a time when the trees were bare.

Diwakar was ready in no time and put on his jacket and snow boots. Both father and son left silently with a torch. Only Parvati stood at the gate and prayed to God. Outside, a faint glow made the road visible. The snow fell heavily and accumulated around a foot and a half. It was well past midnight but they could see a couple of people moving down the road. They matched the footprints left on the snow and moved quickly. The orchard was two kilometers away. After some time they crossed a bend. The steps that went down were covered with snow. Diwakar went ahead and marked the steps for Shevak. The orchard was a bit lower on the slopes. Both reached the orchard and Shevak released a sigh. Many of the trees stood with broken braches that pointed downwards. Others were loaded with snow and would give way any moment. Father and son started shaking the trees, one after the other. There were a total of three hundred trees, and between the two of them, they could only save a small number. The bigger, fully mature trees were at greater risk as they had more leaves. But shaking them was difficult. Both tried their best. The torch had died a while ago. It was dark and cold. The snowfall continued.

It was early morning when the snowfall stopped. Father and son were still at work. All night they had moved from one tree to another. Diwakar felt tired. His hands and feet were numb. He looked at aau at a distance still shaking the trees trying to salvage whatever was possible. He moved closer to him.

“Aau, let’s go home now.”

Shevak looked at his son and realized that he needed rest. He himself felt tired too. He nodded and both started walking back.

On the road, they met a few villagers. Most of them drank every evening. They were sleeping and would not be aware of the loss until morning. The few who got up were grieving. Yashobant was coming from the village. He stopped when he saw Shevak.

He looked worried.

“How is the situation out there?”

“Bad. It has put us back ten years,” said Shevak.

“I saw the snowfall but at this age it’s difficult for me to move at night.”

A few passing villagers also stopped. Everyone had a grim face. Most of them planned their life, loans, and existence on the earnings from apples. Over the years, the orchards had grown and now they provided a substantial income, even a measure of opulence to the villagers. A few had large orchards built over several years of labor but now their efforts had been lost in just one night.

The mountains smiled at a distance. They never allowed much lasting comfort to the people and enforced the cycle of growth and destruction, leveling everything.

On the way back, they saw more damage. The vegetable patches standing tall with bright green stalks had been reduced to thick green frozen carpets. The buckwheat fields that stood upright had lost their stand and now lay broken, twisted in disarray. The cows were having a feast from the leaves of broken poplar branches. Roofs, poles, rocks, boulders, and roads were all covered with deep, heavy snow.

Parvati was standing at the gate when they came home. She had not been able to sleep all night. She kept the fire ready, expecting them to come back at any moment. Both rushed inside and sat near the fire. Nisha gave them hot water to drink while Parvati made tea. There was silence. Shevak lit a bidi and looked at everyone.

“What can we do if he decides our destiny in this way?” Shevak said, referring to Devta.

“First the rains and now the snow. We need to make arrangements for a puja,” Parvati said.

“You think it will help?” Diwakar asked. “First you sacrificed two lambs because there was no rain; then two more for the rain to stop. And now for the snowfall! This happened through no fault of ours. This is global warming our teacher told us.” Diwakar was visibly upset.

“And what is that?” Parvati asked.

“You wouldn’t understand. What his teacher said may be true. This has never happened before in the last twenty years,” Shevak said.

Nisha looked at her father-in-law. She felt bad for him. She knew that apples were an important source of sustenance for the family and how a poor harvest would affect them. She wished Pravin were there to help his father. But then she remembered that he could help more from outside—only if he got a decent employment. She closed her eyes momentarily and prayed to God for his success.

***

The sun came out and created dazzling reflection all across the valley. Shevak took out his dark sunglasses and went out. The snowfall posed a threat to the electricity supply and he had to be ready.

At Lalaji’s shop, a small group gathered. Humbled by nature on all fronts, most of them sat with long faces. Balbir stood there with a cup of tea. His Jeep was totally covered with snow, only a little glass was visible in the front. He saw Shevak approaching and ordered a tea for him.

“Any news from Sangla?” Shevak asked him.

“All roads are closed. Landslides in three places have disconnected us. Even Sangla is disconnected,” Naresh said.

Landslides have become a regular occurrence during the monsoon. The cutting of trees and the hydroelectric projects contributed to the landslides more than anything.

“Now the prices will go up!” commented Balbir.

“Except for the price of apples, which will go down further,” said Shevak.

Lalaji sat inside the shop and listened to everything. He was happy because the closed roads meant extra profit. He had enough stock to last two weeks but he would wait a few days before taking it out.

At this moment, the TV stopped and Shevak realized there was a power outage. He looked at his cell phone. He knew it would ring any moment.

***

Diwakar stretched out near the bukhari. His eyes were red from lack of sleep and he felt exhausted. In his mind, he went back to his cottage in the hills. He decided to keep a good stock of firewood there. He soon fell asleep. In his dreams, he saw himself walking on the smooth snowy carpet in his small garden holding Nisha’s hand.

Ria got ready for school. She was in high spirits. The card she had made was ready except that she had not written anything inside. She could not find the right words. But that was okay. The card looked nice with its drawings of blue mountains, a red sun, blue houses, a yellow river, and an orange goat. She had thought of a hundred ways she could give Jeet the card, but then decided she would ask her best friend Lila to help her. She reached school and went to her classroom. Everyone, including the teacher, sat huddled next to a bulb heater in one corner; they were singing in chorus. A few minutes later, the principal came and announced a “snow day” for all classes up to the eighth standard. Ria felt cheated. Jeet was in the ninth class and she could not wait that long. She consulted Lila.

“You can always give it to him tomorrow,” Lila argued.

“But I want to give it to him today.”

“One day will not make much difference, my friend.”

Ria thought for a while and nodded. Both left for their homes.

Nisha and Parvati stayed at home. Nisha took the shovel and cleared the snow from the courtyard and the entrance. In the afternoon, both of them strained the buckwheat again and washed it with water. Nisha looked outside. Everything looked serene in the evening light of the setting sun. She had never seen such a snow-covered landscape before. The hills, the meadows, the trees, the roads, the river all looked different—she thought of Pravin and then she thought of walking down to the river with him, treading on the fresh snow hand in hand.

Ria came back from school and played with the kid and the lamb. She enjoyed being pampered by all and did little housework. No one ever expected or asked her to do anything. On rare occasions, she helped Parvati.

Soon it was dark and Parvati lit a candle. Normally with bad weather, it took two to three days to restore power as the electrical poles ran across difficult terrain. Shevak arrived home a bit later than usual.

“The cable snapped in three places,” he announced. “It will be three to four days before we have power.” He was not worried. Power was only used for light and the TV. He had an early dinner and went to bed.

Diwakar was still by the fire and wrapped a light blanket around himself. It was dark and Nisha looked out the window. The moon came out late, first spreading the shine on the opposite peak and then flowing down the snow-covered face and touching all the pines. Then the moon reached the valley where it glowed momentarily on the river, turning it into silvery silk before crossing the fields and touching the courtyard. It was as if a hidden light had been switched on and everything started glowing. Nisha noticed Diwakar standing beside her. He was looking at her face, which also glowed from the reflection. They smiled at the same time and looked at the dark sky filled with stars and moonlight, the white glowing peaks on the horizon, and the white sheet spread across the valley…only the shadows from crevices and below the rocks added mystery to the heavenly scene.