Harkaman could see his reflection shimmering upon the water’s surface. As he stood there and watched the vast expanse of blue water, he observed how calm the surface was. The water was still. Green forests surrounded the lake, and the trees that bordered its shores make the body of water look resplendent. The sun seemed to be preparing to settle down for the day as Harkaman stood still, staring at the lake. Harkaman and his little boat had carried countless people across the lake, over the years. He and his little boat, Harkaman thought, had made them see nature at her most magnificent.
It was starting to get dark and the other fishermen and ferrymen were preparing to call it a day. Harkaman sat there unperturbed, his mind still playing hide and seek with his thoughts. “It is not dark yet,” the ferryman murmured to himself as he lit a cigarette. He’d stolen it from his own shop in the morning. His wife, Dhanmaya, ran a small shop that boasted of things like cigarettes, biscuits and noodles. Every morning, when his wife was busy, attending to one chore or another around the house, Harkaman would sneak out a few cigarettes. The man was much delighted by the fact that his wife had never noticed the few cigarettes that went missing every morning.
He saw his reflection upon the lake, fluttering along with the waves his little boat created. And he thought about his life, his childhood and the dream he had harboured to grow old along the shores of this very lake. He had dreamt of becoming a successful merchant and imagined a future for himself in which he’d be running a business in the nearby city. He’d soon lost his vigour though. Obligations and impediments created by his family had crippled him; he had long lost sight of his dream.
His father’s death, which had come unexpectedly and way before his time, had fallen upon him like a blow from a sharp-edged sword. Ensuing circumstances had led to an early marriage, and Harkaman had, like his father and his grandfather, taken up his family’s traditional occupation. He had become a ferryman. And his dream had been permanently deferred.
All these years and Harkaman still regretted and resented his life. The regrets were over the life he led, over the possible lives he could have led, over what he had achieved and what he might have achieved. The ferryman had a small hut near the lake where he lived with his wife. The hut was the only thing he had by the name of property. The biggest disappointment in his life though, was the fact that he and his wife had never had any children. The two had been married for years, but his wife had never conceived. And although this was purely a battle of biology, the couple blamed themselves. Regret over not being able to shower parental love and care had lingered in their two hearts for decades.
As he ruminated on all these things, Harkaman looked somber. The shore looked beautiful in the crimson evening. His many questions had been left unanswered by fate. There were so many doubts and uncertainties that had been left unaddressed; so many dreams that had been left unfulfilled.
Harkaman saw a few goldfish swimming in the water. It was winter, and the air was chilling. But the coldness of the water did not seem to bother the beautiful creatures. “The water must be freezing,” the ferryman murmured to himself. But the fish themselves seemed unperturbed by the temperature. They were frolicking, like children in a park, happily and playfully moving about. Harkaman had seen fish swimming in water a number of times, but he’d never thought about them this way. Thoughts which now occupied him had never before crossed his mind.
He looked at the water, still and calm, and it looked no different from the water he’d seen some 20 years ago when, for the first time, he’d come to the shore with a boat and an oar. He looked at the surroundings. The beautiful trees from the nearby forest seemed to be smiling at him, much as they did every other evening.
“These creatures, these living beings, never protest. They never question, or go against nature,” he thought. “They never argue. Never demand.” As he looked at the world that surrounded him, he thought how content all its elements seemed with what they had received. “Yet, we humans have always yearned for more,” he said to himself. “We’ve never been content. We always desire for more.” This was a momentous realisation for Harkaman who felt as if the water and all other elements of nature around him had spoken to him. They had awakened him.
Buoyed by the thought, he left for home. He had not had a single customer to ferry across the lake that day, so Harkaman had not a penny in his pocket. Had this day been like the others, he would have been downcast as he returned home. But today, he was beaming, and he looked deeply content. Upon reaching home, he sat on the verandah and asked his wife to bring him a glass of water.
As her husband drank the water, Dhanmaya saw her husband’s face was almost radiating. “Looks like you had a nice day today. Did you earn much? You look so happy and content,” said Dahanmaya. Harkaman, smiling back, replied, “No.”“I’ve not had a single customer today,” he told her, and Dhanmaya was understandably surprised.
While the two ate their evening meal, Harkaman said to her, “Well, I can always afford to be happy, regardless of my daily earnings.
I can afford not to react to whatever that happens. I can afford to be just a spectator to the divine creation that is life.”Dhanmaya looked confused by his words, and gave her husband a bewildered look. The ferryman, however, was simply gobbling up his meal.
- Kumar Sharma
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