The Lost Harmonica

I still remember that day. Spring had started to spread its wings upon my father's farm, showering it with flowers of white and yellow. Even when you passed through the narrow kaccha roads, the sight was beautiful. The green stalks swayed with the gentle wind as if dancing in tune to the silent song of the breeze. The sun glowed across the land, blessing it with golden sunshine. I used to spend hours walking on the meadow.

At times, the women-folk would warn me from venturing further. They feared I would get lost. But I, being a frivolous girl, never paid heed to their warnings.

On that sunny evening, I was walking along the lanes, going further than I had ever gone before. My ears picked up the sound of a tune. It was so faint that one could have easily dismissed it as an exaggeration of one's bored imagination. But the more I walked, the more distinct it became. At a crossing, I finally stopped and tried to find the direction of the source.

Soon, I found myself walking towards it. The song was from a harmonica. Its enchanting notes seemed to be flowing from a lone oak tree that stood in between the corn stalks. Curiosity overwhelmed me as I began to wonder who was playing such a beautiful song. Latching onto the wooden trunk, I peeked over its side to take a good look at the musician.

I had never seen him before. His eyes were closed as he played his small instrument. His dark hair was cut very short yet some loose strands graced his hidden face. Just one look at him, was all that I needed, to proclaim him as a stranger in this old Punjabi town. The men folk of the village never wore shirts and pants. They were farmers and hence, white dhotis and kurtas suited their daily toil. This boy was hardly older than me, yet the music playing from his harmonica was telling another story. It was slow and narrated tales of distant lands.. lands where I had never been before. My life sadly had been restricted to my village alone.

I was startled when I suddenly realized that my surroundings had become quiet. A gasp escaped my lips when a hand clasped hold of my left wrist. With a twist of my arm behind my back, the stranger managed to pin me against the tree. I stood there gasping, wondering what he was going to do with me.

I opened my eyes and met his brown ones. There was a sparkle of mischief in them as he looked me over from head to toe. His grip loosened, freeing me in an instant.

"You interrupted me," he said. It was more of a remark than a statement.

Due to some strange reason, I lost my nerve to talk. I flustered while wondering what to do next. He was amused by my reaction. He stepped back further.

"You are a pretty one. Who are you?"

I didn't know what to do. My contact with men had been limited and I was extremely shy. I looked over his shoulder, pushed him away and broke out on a run. I heard a loud splash but I didn't risk to look back. When I was a safe distance away, I turned around to see him.

He was standing in the marshy rice field. His pants were drenched in water till his knees and he was mumbling curses. He was trying to squeeze the water out but his clothing was thick. Involuntarily, a laugh escaped my lips. He must have heard it too because his head snapped towards me.

I stood there frozen in my tracks, waiting for him to scold me. But instead, a smirk made its way across his lips. He winked and asked, "Don't I deserve to know your name?"

After a long moment of contemplation, I shouted, "Roja. "

He grinned at my reply.

That was how it all began. The first day that I met Raj didn't turn out to be a great start for our relationship but I still remember it. We continued to meet each other every evening. Raj was a soldier on the Northern Frontier. He was the son of my father's friend and hence, he was staying close by.

Never in my life had I met someone like him. Under that oak tree, we used to spend hours just talking about his life as a soldier. He used to tell me about the various places he had visited and I listened to him in fascination. His words had the ability to take me to those distant lands where I had never been before and feel what he had felt.

Perhaps knowingly or unknowingly, our relationship evolved into something deeper within the next two weeks. During one particular evening as we sat there, watching the sun go down, Raj was twirling a corn flower between his fingers. His head was resting on my lap while his eyes stayed on the skies.

Suddenly, he looked up at me and smiled. There was always something special about his wonderful smiles. Warm and genuine. His eyes twinkled, everytime he looked at me. He took my hand and placed the flower in my palm.

I looked at him confusedly.

"I really like you, Roja. I want to marry you, " he said in a small whisper.

I panicked. Fear ran through me in shivers at the same instant.

"Raj, baba would not like it.."

He shushed me by placing a finger along my lips. "I will talk to your father. Don't worry. "

The next day, I stayed at home. Half of me was waiting in fear and the other half in anticipation. There was a knock on the door and the whole household was surprised to see him at our house. I shut myself in my room, awaiting the thunderstorm. After a good one hour, there was a knock on the door. I hesitated but finally opened it.

My father stood there with his eyebrows drawn in a crease. I had expected him to be angry. But strangely, his face broke out in a smile as he asked me, "When should I fix the wedding?"

Raj stood there behind him, grinning at me with a wild expression on his face.

The date was fixed. The muhurtam decided. Our wedding took place in a low key ceremony. Only those closest to us had been called. I never knew Raj had so many friends in the army. All of them slapped him on the back for being lucky enough to get a beautiful girl like me. The blush on my cheeks deepened.

Everything had been so perfect that day. The wedding had been a success and our first night had been magical. Raj had been gentle with me and I still remember him.. holding me in his arms. The same night, he had whispered to me that he would never leave my side.

When morning came, I found my bed-side empty. I got up to see my husband looking very distraught. In his hand, he held a telegram and he was obviously very upset over it.

He turned to me with solemn eyes and said, " I am really sorry. I have to go. The country is calling me to war."

I stared back at him, not knowing what to say. I had always known that someday he would have to leave me. But I never expected it to happen so soon.

The very next day, I had to bid him farewell on our town's railway station. Just as the rickety express was about to depart, I couldn't control my tears anymore. They flowed down my cheeks and Raj felt guilty for leaving me behind. Even though the train gave the last warning whistle, he dropped his bags to hurry back to me. Caressing my cheeks with his thumbs, he placed a kiss on my forehead and smiled comfortingly.

"Don't worry. I will be back. "

I nodded slowly and embraced him tightly in response.

His figure faded into the distance as he stood at the train's doorway, waving at me. I tried to capture that moment in my eyes and his image remained embedded into my subconscious every day and night as I waited for him. He sent me numerous letters in the first month.

-

24/2/1999, Kargil

Dear Roja,

I hope you are well. The crisis has deepened and I have been put on battle command. But you don't have to worry. We are safely away from the line of control. The authorities have forbidden us from writing too many details in our letters. As a result, my letters will be short.

How are you? Do you still go out to the fields every evening?

I miss you, my love. Every night I look up at the sky and wonder how you are doing.

Take care, pretty one. I will be back soon.

Raj.

-

I used to read his letters over and over again. After I had memorized the words by heart, I would treasure them safely in a trunk. Every afternoon, I would wait for the post-man near the gate. But in the second month, he began to write less frequently.

-

29/2/1999, Kargil

Dear Roja,

Do you remember my friend Josh? He came to our wedding. Well, I received news that he was seriously injured in a bomb-blast. Sadly, he has lost his right leg. I understand what his family must be going through. Please do me a favor and talk to his relatives for me. I know you won't disappoint me.

It's snowing here in the hills. You have never seen the snow, right? When I get back, I will take you to a hill station. There is so much that I want to show you.. the hills, the ice, the sledges, the Kashmiri boats..

I miss you. You are always in my thoughts, pretty one.

Raj.

-

6/3/1999

Dear Roja,

I was shifted and put on the line of control. This is my last letter to you since LoC is a red-taped area. No communication is allowed to either go in/ out. Singh is with me, so don't worry.

I hope the war ends soon and I get to come back home.

I love you, pretty one.

Raj.

-

After receiving the last letter, I couldn't sleep for days and nights. I stopped eating and drinking. Everyday I would pray to God, asking Him to protect my husband.

If you were wondering whether that was the last letter I received, then you were terribly wrong. It wasn't.

Ten days later, I received a telegraph from the Indian Army. Raj was killed in a sneak attack. My heart tore apart when I heard the news. I collapsed on the floor, my bangles broke into pieces and so did I.

I was a widow.

Six years later, I was sitting under the same oak tree. I was not the same person I used to be. Raj's death transformed me into a bitter and cold person. I hated him for leaving me and after all these years, the hatred continued to fill my heart. He broke his promise. He left me as a widow with a fatherless child. My daughter Sara was playing a few feet away, near a small brook. Though she seemed cheerful for a five year old, I couldn't help but wonder whether she missed him.

Her innocent questions always made me feel guilty. She resembled him in many ways. Sara had the same twinkling eyes as her father and her smile was just like his. Warm and genuine.

Though I had many reasons to hate him, yet I was still in love with him. Tears trickled down my cheeks. I wondered how our life would have been if he had returned home.. safe and sound. If he hadn't been killed, I would have had a husband and Sara would have had a father. What mistake did I ever do? Did I ever hurt anybody? Then why should I be the one to suffer?

The sun had already set across the horizon. Fireflies began to hover over the stagnant water. Their lights were reflected by the water and a light fog began to drift through the air. It would have been splendid to watch but I knew we were late.

I got up from the ground and called for Sara.

Only silence answered my calls. My daughter's name echoed across the lonely land. Fear began to possess me.

"Sara! Come back this instant! Stop playing around.. "

I heard a small throttle of feet nearby. The fog had thickened but yet I could see my daughter, standing near the brook and covered in mud.

"Wh-what happened?", I asked while rushing to her.

Her eyes were red. She must have been crying. She managed to give me a weak smile. "I fell into the water."

"What?"

Her innocent smile never left her face. She snuggled into my arms while I held her. Her frock was drenched and I was afraid she would catch a cold. How had she managed to pull herself out?

"SARA! Don't ever go there again. If something had happened to you, then-"

She cut me off. "It's alright, mommy.. Daddy saved me."

My six year old daughter stared back at me with her cute eyes. I was too dumb-found to even utter a single word in response. She must have imagined it, right? It wasn't possible.. unless he did come back.

"Sara! Don't lie!", I scolded her in disbelief.

My daughter appeared hurt upon hearing my words. "I am not lying. Daddy told me to give this to you.. " She took my hand and placed something on my palm. Her tiny fingers were inter-twined with mine and when she finally let go of me, I realized what it was.

A harmonica. Along its side, there was a fresh corn flower resting near the edges.

I couldn't believe it but the look on my daughter's face was genuine. She pointed behind me and I twisted myself to follow her gaze.

In the dark, I couldn't see it at first. But my eyes had got used to the darkness. In the middle of the rice fields, there stood a faint silhouette. It was floating above the water and it waved at me. Though I couldn't see him clearly, yet I knew who he was. Within a split second, the figure vanished.

I smiled while tears of happiness and shock ran over my cheeks. Embracing Sara in my arms, I held her tightly.

She asked confusedly, "What's wrong, mommy?"

"I am so happy.. He kept his promise."