IT was certainly a gift of GOD to me that I could visit the Bhopal but alas as foolish I am, due to laziness I could not utilize much of opportunity provided by the Almighty. However, He gave me ample opportunity and time. I cannot complain to him about that.
SO what, I could breath the air of the place. Was that anything less for me?. NO It was great to feel the same air, the same sky, the same vibrations as those people felt. By that I mean the Begum Bhopals (there were many of them), May be the Kings like raja Bhoj, The city I loved, since the shooting of the film the CUSTODY of Ismail merchant was done at Bhopal (as much as I know).
The Bhopal is similar to Bhoj Pal. Isn?t it.
The temple at high rise in Bhoj pur (sala), no doubt is of ancient origin. It looked to me as an assembled one. The etchings on the nearby rocks show some kind of the plan design for the temple and its different angles. And the designs of arches, pillars etc are also found drawn on the rocks. But Pity. After having known this temple for such a long time no steps have been taken to protect those engraving on rock from the onslaught of the weather. When I saw this year (October 2003). Many drawings have faded and more are going washed by rains and heat.
Atleast few temp. sheds could have been erected on those engravings. Ironically there was an old looking building. Which as local people told it was a kind of guesthouse, where high privileged visited. If that is not correct then of course huge fund had been utilized in making these unused brick structures and on the other side the important engraving were left open under the sky. Let us see what INTACH and Archeological survey will do to save it
Very early in childhood I used to read the AMAR chitra Katha on stories of Raja Bhoj, Chandragupta Vikramaditya (both the pratham and dwiteeya). Now we get confused as who is who and what each has done and what each of them has significance to the Indian History.
Then there was a young child named Shalivahana, who as legend goes, was born to an eight years old girl. Some ?shraap? was on the Vikramaditya-I that he would be won by a boy born to an eight-year girl and be killed. Legend has it that a ?pot maker? or Potter, not the Harry potter, raised the boy.
The boy grew up amongst the commoners (at that time) and not in the elite class of that time. And could fight with the mighty king. He was the one credited to introduce the language of the commoners to the court of the Kings. Earlier the language of God- the Sanskrit- was the court language. (the place is now taken by the elite English). Which was never done before. As, the Shalivahana was a common man of that time, with lots of common sense. So he introduced it and to the benefit of all.
Now today I am remembering about the SPIRIT, a lady for which no other word comes to my mind. After I was allotted quarter in chakragaon, Port Blair, which is of course is a part of Port Blair, but is totally cut off after the dusk. Once I enter that area there is no chance to come out of it to the city. To do so, one has to be in the privileged class of owners of the wheeled vehicles i.e. above than two wheelers. God knows when three wheeler cars would run here. I have none. To reach my office I take a bus from chakargaon to the nayagaon (a two kilometers stretch only) and from there I walk down to my office through the police line that almost another two kilometers. If not, then this distance is more than one kilometer but less than two kilometers.
The high point is the road, which overlooks the prestigious Airport. While walking I often felt as if I am walking on our side of Karakoram Mountains and similar tracks, which are lingering on my memory. The roads of kullu manali, Solan, Nahan, Shimla, Kangda devi, Chittpoorni, and jwaladevi in Himachal pradesh. The roads of Jammu, Katra & Gulmarg in J & K. There was a road on which due to land-slide the traffic was diverted to another route and finally after few days we could reach the Jawahar tunnel-a gate to the valley.
The roads near the gaurifanta from where we went to see the Dudwa national Park. The road leading to the Dhangadhi, Nepal border. The border post was situated at the end of a Bridge and the river flowing down was symbolic international border of our countries.
See how indecisive I am. I started out about telling that old lady and reached to my memories for describing the roads. Where I used to watch her twice daily. Why twice daily?. While coming to office and returning to home. The frame was tiny and angular. I never talked to her. But on the first sight I used to salute from inside to her strong spirit. She used to carry a stick in hand. Often on the way she would recline on it for support. On support of stick she used to rest for a while and then start again. While walking, I never saw any body offering her a lift in any vehicle. For almost more than one year we both were travelers only. Sharing that part of road. Now when I am down with bad stomach suddenly my mind recaptured her sight. Nowadays I do not see her. God knows what has happened to her. I really wish that I could go in search for the old lady. Ask that neighborhood about well being of hers. And if permitted see her once.
She belonged to the Nepalese families settled in the Port Blair. Thus quite often I thought to ask the old lady about the old period in Port Blair. How these families landed in Port Blair. What were the challenges faced by their community as such. How they carry on their tradition and culture in difficult times. The wrinkled face was remarkable. Since I have met another lady that too from Nepalese family and she told that her father and husband were both World War veterans. After that her husband joined the Andaman and Nicobar Police force. She was just 16 when she came to Port Blair. Now she is in her eighties. Why I feel strong about old persons I don?t know myself. So Impulsively I started talking to her. She is mother of now successful sons having huge earning. She lives in threestory building, and quite decorated one full with furniture and plants greenery. During talk I came to know that one daughter loves plants. SO while talking she started telling me all her old days without any inhibitions. SO I Felt she is a nice soul. And has a simple heart. when I aksed her about how aften she visits her son who lives in Gujrat She told me that I had been there many times but still she feels very much about her first born son for whom she can not live far from him. He is her most loved son and you know as she told me that why She likes to be with her son since he has not married. Then I got the clue. The strong emotional bond between mother and son. As, I am living far way from my mother who is in Lucknow. I could barely stop my tears.
