contd...

Robin was his name, Robin Bhagat. He was short, so always the beginner of the assembly line. For one reason or the other; sometimes it would be his unpolished shoes, or his dirty nails, or the chewed end of his tie, he was frequently thrown out of the line and put to a long session of scolding which he seemed to be quite used to with. In the class also he was not much a charm. The teachers considered his performance below par than what a regular fifth grader should have. He used to sit beside me, his eyes staring straight at the board but his mind somewhere else, probably, running on a grassy field or riding with a pace towards some unknown place. But, there was never a hint of worry on his face, instead, a smile would always be there, the peculiar smile, those white teeth peeking through the curved black lips.

The old man was busy with his dishes so I moved towards the tamarind tree. I stood under its shade and examined it. Indeed the tree was old, with its bark tuff and thick and the little tamarinds hanging by the twigs were waiting to get mellowed. It was during those days at school that I visited him and we talked sitting under the big tamarind tree. A few weeks later a notice made all the class excited, the eagerly awaited summer vacation was soon to begin and it meant a month long blissful and absolute freedom. We all separated for a month and were busy in our own worlds, doing things and visiting relatives. Jumping over the walls, climbing up the tree tops and when there was nothing to do in particular, some iron pieces and a magnet would do a trick of fading off boredom. However hard we try all the good things come to an end and all those vacations were on the list, they all had their ends.

Jagdish arrived sooner than I had expected; the new fan belt in a plastic bag swinging down his hand and a smile accompanied by a touch of content on his face as if a mission was accomplished. He washed his hands and face and with a handkerchief wiped them dry and was ready to work with the vehicle. Fixing it up was not much a trouble, indeed, I enjoyed giving him a hand, after all it was my job: mending the troubled machines. We didn’t stay there for long, we had a place to reach and some more hours on the road remained to be travelled. Soon we were riding again leaving the tamarind tree and the old man far behind us.

The heat was receding slowly and cooler breeze swept past the vehicle. Jagdish was silent, probably he was tired.

“By this time we would’ve already been there.” I said.

“Yes sir.” He said. And then he looked at his wrist watch, adjusted the rare view mirror and said, “We will be there in just an hour or so.”

The sun was already on the ground, standing at the end of the empty field and its orange engulfing much of its periphery. There was the same assembly line after the vacation but there was no Robin at the very beginning of it. His body was found lifeless floating on the pond, the same pond opposite to the big tamarind tree. Jagdish remained silent and his eyes cautiously looking ahead, straight at the road.