With A Drifter In Drifting Monsoon

The incident happened two decades ago. The spirit of 'solo coastal trekking-Pagoda to Port' once gripped me like an incurable disease. I chose early February, not a suitable time to have a go. My disobedient desire forced me to take this foolish decision. The story began in Pagoda town Konark of Odisha, the fancied coastline to reach the port town of Paradip.

The train moored at Cuttack station very late after having idled all night. I reached Konark by bus. At night I went to do some necessary shopping after seeing the carelessly kept erotic antiquities in Sun Temple. I was informed that food would be available on the way, and shelter in the village or in the fisherman's hut. So the baggage burden was minimal.

Influenced by the dry monsoon, the coastal region of Odisha was like another Cherapunji at that time. The weather forecast was not favorable for a trekking trip. I was a little scared. I took Lokhai with me on the advice of a Bengali grocer. He would be my travel companion till village ‘Tandahar’. ‘LaxminarayanBangal’, nickname ‘Lokhai’, was a down-and-out drifter by nature.

Half bald, stained teeth, simpleton  Lokhai was then thirty-two. He wore wheel-tyre recycled slippers, loose Bermuda, buttonless bush shirt.  He came from East Pakistan riding on his father's shoulders during the liberation war. The displaced father built a humble home on government land under a rehabilitation scheme. Dad died prematurely from a snake bite. Without getting the proper blessings of Goddess Saraswati, education for him was futile in the beginning. He was very poor. He used to do petty jobs, sometimes farm labor, plowing, and carrying bricks in the kiln. His wife lost her life bleeding while giving birth. Since then he became a fatalist. His widowed mother had her own livelihood. Hardly getting two simple meals in a day.

Sea was three kilometres ahead along the tarred road. Holy Chandrabhagariver had been stagnated and deranged under the sand, the river mouth dry. At Chandrabhaga fishermen's ghetto Lokhai had his breakfast with a plate of stale rice and cumin-boiled pumpkin puree. After eating, he rubbed tobacco on his palm.

We started late, towards the north across wide open sea beach. A disappointing ashy sky loomed largely. A cold breeze was blowing. So lonely a place, a fear grasped me stealthily. Fishermen were at rest. I turned my head and looked at Lokhai, a simple smile on his face.
He announced, 'Chenu village is near, no more fear'. I walked slowly on the soft sand. In the northwest corner, a stormy cloud howled GurGur. Lightning flashed behind the overcast sky. The power line of lighting moved from distant to the near sky. I was startled by a sudden fiery flash.

It was a deafening thunderclap ‘Korkoratgurumgurum’. I stood stunned in the circle of terror. By nature's decree of sudden death, I was supposed to be French fries. It was raining heavily. The wind was blowing high. Needles of raindrops were piercing my face. Lokhai was in a casuarina shelter by then. Lightning never strikes twice at the same place. However, draining all self-confidence, I bolted out to the casuarina castle.

I thought that if the mind was not dud, no one trod this trail in such an impending disaster. This was how thunderstorms occur on days of sure calamity. We covered a good distance, so there was no way back. Never before I had been in such a condition so real and ongoing. Getting consecutive ultimatums, my knees were bent in fear. Casuarina pyramid was swaying in the strong wind. Carefree Lokhai undressed to be stark naked. He shook wings of his wet body and said in cockney Bengali, 'How you slid out smooch of firebolt? If the maker is with, who knock down?.' My backpack was dampened even inside the waterproof cover. Fortunately, the clothes and other belongings were all in plastic bags. I was a bit dry in the proper raincoat.

There was no shelter for the fishermen nearby. Due to high tide in the sea with heavy rain, rogue sea waves were over-running the shore and the encroached casuarina forest. I had pride that I don't need God's help.  My brazen egotism brought me to this perilous situation, 'Oh God' 

Unexpected sun busted through the clouds. It was drizzling, the anger of the sea mitigated. We collected little dripping water from casuarina's breasts. Again started walking in uncertainty, doubtful whether Tandahar could be reached before evening.

Walking for miles leaving footprints in the moist sand.Lokhai's wet clothes were drying on his body in the gentle breeze. His only clothes in his possession and some coins tied in a gamcha-towel. Sour pumpkin curry started playing havoc, his stomach rumbling. He was shitting time and again. I gave him anti-diarrhea medicine. His abdominal pain subsided a  little. Even being Milkha Singh we failed to reach in time. I did not have any idea how far we had come. There was no sign of a village or lamp in the distance. So, we had to spend the night in the lap of the casuarina forest.

Infinite surfing waves of the sea as far as the eyes could see. The surfeit of beach pine stood pushing each other on the bank. As soon as sickly sun disappeared behind sea-oak dusk was falling fast.  In the anarchic bush domain, I was making tea on a portable gas stove, by laying a plastic sheet while my headlamp was on.  A snarling dog saw the opportunity stole and ran away with the packet containing cake and biscuits. I saw in the faint twilight the devil was munching our ration sitting a little away. Earlier he was sucking on the bones of a rotting migrant olive riddle that washed up on the beach. The dog was hungry thus he stole. We also had the rhythm of hunger. Alas, what a fate.
Cloud dispersed, stars appeared in the clear blue sky. Infinite void behind. The night was full of music, 'KhoaKhoa Chand, KhulaAsman', and magical lights on the beach. Constant waves were rising, building, breaking. The roar of ripples was crashing on the shore. The starlight of the naked constellation fell on the fishing dinghies off the coast. When the rain stopped, the fishermen floated the boats. They would catch fish at night. Fishing boats were leaping and sinking in tandem with the dancing waves. The beauty of the sea of this planet was fully displaying its charm here. A dog-fox blew siren  in the distance. Then the joint howling ‘Hukkahua’ started seconding the proposal. Meanwhile, I was on the verge of falling asleep on my knees. Lokhai said, "No sleep in jungle, God knows snake dens here.” Suddenly two blue tiny bulbs flashed in the hedge bush. I imagined a tree ghost. Lokhai whispered, ‘A leopard came and go seeing us.’ I was struck by an abysmal sense of fear.

Outbreaks of mosquitoes, racecourse of insects, and stings of reptiles, were what terrified me. I was cuddling in my BV sack. Fire could not be lighted in dampened wood. Lokhai was shivering in the cold, I gave him a sweater. He opened his tobacco box and settled. I did not know when I fell asleep. Lokhai spent a sleepless night as a watchman. 

"Sahebji it is morning let’s start again.' The sky was smiling gleefully. It was a horrible nocturnal misadventure. I was so tired, not in a mood to move, and Still had to go out early in the morning. A flock of swans took flight in the sky. 

Suddenly I saw that same dog was following us again. I said to Lokhai, "Give him a lesson, he pilfered the whole meal.  ‘Sahebji I never killed an animal.  But this son of a beach stole and ate your cake, I will not spare him.’

He chased after the dog with a stick in his hand and got lost in the sea-oak jungle. After a while, the dog barked in severe pain. Screams of agony surrounded casuarina wasteland. It was a jaw-dropping cry. I felt pain in my heart. Because I had pampered him. He came back and said, the devil is killed by a single hit by the pole. Excuse me, this time I'm going to kill you, it won't be right to keep a witness of the murder. Seeing me quivering with alarm, Lokhai laughed and said, 'You are simple-minded, you believed me. if I had killed that doggo, Lord Jagannath would have been gushed. I didn't slay him but drive him away. It was a fake call. Give me a white stick.’

Time passed.  A variety of oysters, jellyfish, conch, and dead fish were tied up on the coast.  The lifeless beach became animated with red crabs navigating out of their shanties with antennae raised. Lokhai discoursed, "You see the crabs, playing cat and mouse,  they don't move in a straight line". 

Constant walking made me hungry. Two teenage girls who came to collect firewood indicated the location of Tandahar village. In such distress, a panchayat member came forward and guided us to a place for a night shelter.

Along the dirt road, all the shacks of the village had clean courtyards. We walked over the causeway over the paddy field with close attention. The girls-women were returning to the village with water can on their heads. Our night dwelling was fixed next door to a  Kali Temple, adjacent to river ‘Kaluni’. The modest brick house of the temple priest 'PolanPonda' was under a neem tree. Two baby goats were playing head bumping in the patio. Shivlinga, vermilion put on a paved floor under a banyan tree. Every one of the village was curious about me. Inhabitants were mostly Oriya. We had our dinner at the house of RamchandraDhibor. He offered us a variety of fish.  I was grateful to the householder. The priest's pretty wife swept the sub-room of the temple and said, ‘I am leaving the mattress for you. You can stay here.'

In the sanctum, goddess Kali was busy balancing on Shiva's chest covered with marigolds. The devotional song was coming out from the priests’ cottage, while 'disco dance' from a distant microphone. Sleepy village delved deep into the darkness. Continuous concerts of cricket disturbed the quiet night. An owl hooted twice and was silent.

We spent the night amidst the silent movement of cockroaches, the sneaking of mice, and the weaving of spiders. After having full bellied dinner I was feeling drowsy. Lokhai curled up like a caterpillar, as if asleep. In noon-night, I woke up abruptly and was surprised to see in the light of the hurricane lamp Lokhai was shedding tears in front of Goddess Chandika. His past was gone, future aimless. I heart felt heavy for him.
As soon as I opened the door, the fragrance of mellow paddy wafted in the fresh morning air. Birds were chirping and quarreling. With a smile on her face, the priest's wife was standing on the threshold of the hut. After placing a bowing down offer to Tulsithan, I floated the farewell raft and said goodbye. Lokhai carelessly put the money I gave him for his service into his pocket without checking. The need for an abjectly poor man was zero. I felt trivial in front of him.

The fishing boats were going deep into the sea with an elevated sail. On the golden beach, fishermen were crouching on the beach for morning rituals. Lokhai looked tired.  His eyes were red. He would return along the same coastline, or he could move in any direction. I would go further north towards ‘Sahan’ the next destination. My mind was racing. He was my companion in dire straits.

The memory of living with Lokhai for a while between life and nature remained embedded in the essence of the mind. I stopped for a while and saw the retreat of an unanchored footman, Lokhai carrying small bundle of puffed rice on his shoulder. His legs wobbled a bit. Was he sick?
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
From the childhood till date I spent half a century as a tourist, sometimes as an adventurer, wandering in the mountains and forests in the country and abroad. Being a globe trotter I visited sixty three countries. My travelogues have been published in different renowned publication, like AnadabazarPatrika, Desh ,Shiladitya, Bhromonadda, Bhromi etc. I am an awardee of 'KALOM' as a best travelogue writer in the year of 2020, Given by 'VromonAdda', a prestigious organisation in West Bengal. One of my book name, 'Sorobor o Shitergolpo' was published by 'RhitoProkashon'.
I did my graduation in English from Calcutta University. I did diploma in Business management. I am managing director of a company deals and manufacturer of scientific instruments.