THE ITINERANT A Story by M.A. Rathore

 THE ITINERANT

A Story by M.A. Rathore

It was my first posting as a teacher in Nagaur district in 2012. I had never lived away from my family and parents except when I went to J&K to pursue my B.Ed. Degree; I had to stay in the hostel of the college where I used to drink milk as if I was a child then. Of course, I had the experience of spending a whole year out of my home, especially during the day time or sometimes I was too late to come to my home so late in case we were busy in some meetings in a private company. But this was a great experience in my life. I had so many opportunities to interact with strangers and friends worldwide. Very soon I was promoted to a higher rank in my company. I enjoyed my projects at my company more than my colleagues and fellow leaders. I could not follow being a continuous part of my company because it was a tradition in my family to serve the country as a government employee, so I had to leave my company and go to have a degree in education; because my father wanted me to be a teacher.

I confess it was not easy for me to get a job because I had to go through so many mental and physical distractions and inner conflicts in my life. As my father was a staunchly religious person; he wanted me to perform all the rituals and religious activities along with my study but it was a challenge for me to follow the two activities simultaneously. In the name of moral support, there were negative enforcements I used to receive from my elder brother and uncle who was a Tehsildar at that time.  Once I asked my uncle what to do, and he suggested polishing shoes if I could not get some esteemed job. This was painful for me to bear all insults yet I could digest the sorrows and suffering as it was an almost helpless condition for me. I thought I was living as an itinerant in my own father’s house. However, it was a great inspiration for me to change my life and all aspects afterward. I confess I had never opposed my elder brother because in every condition he used to motivate me to fulfill my dreams. He just said and I did according to his wish. His way of motivation was strange yet it is behind my major successes.

The day came when I was selected for a good rank. I told my friends and family members about my selection but nobody could believe it, for I had forgotten to access my career. I became calm and quiet. All my inner conflicts and grievances had disappeared and I complained against anybody whom I thought was against my decision.

Joining Nagaur was not so enchanting for me because I was not trained to live outside my house. I was not a professional cook, though I was an expert in all of the arts and other creative aspects which make life easygoing. A boy used to come to take coaching from me. It was a wonderful chance for me to get his service. He used to bring food for me; this went on for one and a half years smoothly. But the fact of the matter was that he stopped this service, as soon as his target was achieved. Here comes again the strong motivation from my brother. He suggested to me that I should prepare my food if I wished to enjoy the real taste. I could not oppose my brother’s counseling, for they were always helpful in my life.

This was the first chance I had to make my food; learning by myself I made chapattis and vegetables; sometimes being online I got my spouse’s help in the making of vegetables, rice, and other normal dishes. With time I became an expert in cooking as well. I was no longer in need of anybody except my own in the circle of life. Though I was living alone at the place where I was appointed as a teacher yet I had many opportunities to retreat to myself. My loneliness enhanced my power to meditate; I used to sit for hours and then try to compose poems on my daily experiences and reading of literature. I wrote six books among three that had gotten published.

The place where I used to live cost me Rs. 1000. It was not away from struggles; the struggle for the supply of drinking water as well as water for home usage; the struggle for proper electricity; proper passage of air and hygienic conditions. The walls of my house were not very well plastered; they were old and eroded day by day; the plaster used to fly here and there all the time; the roof leaked when it rained. The water flowed through my ceiling fan which was my best friend of mine in the struggle of my life.

Who cared for an itinerant? I put the matter of some repair work but the owner of the house never paid any attention to my sufferings. I tried to have good relations but I had no right to nurture any relations between an owner and an itinerant. These relations could not be defined based on ground-level faiths, behaviour, and other things; the itinerant was an itinerant and the owner was an owner. The other people in the community were amiable and supportive but not the owner. The son of the owner used to come to my room and demand meat and liquor otherwise I had to evacuate the room instantly. He threatened me to raise the fare of the house now and then. I had understood that no itinerant could create good relations in the world. © 2018