A World Within by Minakshi Chaudhry Read Free Book Online Page A

the bank lockers?’ I ask.
    ‘At that time there were no lockers, it was always kept in the house, buried underground.’
    ‘Tell me something about Dadi, was she strict?’ I ask.
    Dadoo looks at me bewildered, ‘What do you mean? You cannot define a mother. Strict or not strict, she was a mother after all. She was affectionate, she never scolded us.’
    ‘Did she discriminate against girls?’ I ask bashfully.
    ‘At that time equality was not what you understand by it now. Boys and girls were not equal. Parents preferred sons. Those were different times. Now there is equality. At that time parents thought that girls were to be married off. That was all. You have not seen those times. Those were bad times. There were only two girls in my college and there were a couple of them in the school. You could not have lived even for a day in those times. It was a bad time, very bad time. Bahut ganda samay tha larkiyon ke liye [it was very ugly time for the girls].’
    ‘I would not have cared, I would have set people right,’ I say haughtily.
    ‘This you are saying now because you are living in today’s world. Had you been living then you would not have said this.’
    I nod trying to understand. I have never experienced discrimination on the base of gender in our family. We have always been Mala, Vikram, Rewa and Deepak – individuals with our own likes and dislikes. Dadoo has never said ‘I have two sons and two daughters.’ It has always been ‘I have four children’.
    ‘Tell me something interesting from the days when you started teaching,’ I ask changing the topic.
    ‘I used to give money to a colleague to provide me company in Bilaspur, my first posting. You would not find people to talk to in those days. Moreover, there were very few educated people with whom you could have discussion.’
    ‘Money? You paid money to someone to talk to you?’ I ask astonished.
    ‘Yes, to give me company. I paid him by the hour,’ he chuckles.
    Dadoo never ceases to amaze me with his unconventional ways.

11
    20 May 2010
    It is a bright morning, I am looking at the flowers blooming wondering whether it will be the last season for the feast of flowers in our garden in Solan. Dadoo seldom does gardening now.
    After watering the plants, Dadoo comes and joins me.
    ‘ Kaam theek chal raha hai [is your work going on well]?’ he asks.
    ‘No,’ I mumble.
    ‘Why? What is the problem?’ he asks anxiously.
    ‘I am not able to do my work.’
    ‘Because of us?’
    ‘No, it is just that I don’t do it.’
    ‘Is it a new book?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘On what?’
    ‘Bilaspur.’
    He looks at me blankly.
    ‘On you,’ I add.
    ‘Me, what about me?’ he asks bewildered.
    ‘On your life, your lifestyle and culture of your village.’
    ‘Oh you will have to go there, stay there, and talk to the people. Only then will you be able to write anything. What are you doing sitting here, go there and do some research,’ he says.
    ‘Tell me something about Bhakhra Dam,’ I ask suddenly.
    Dadoo, almost instantly starts narrating, ‘We got land in Kuljar after the submergence of Chaunta, our original home. Raja Anand Chand, the ruler of Bilaspur state tried his best to save the ancient town of Bilaspur. He wanted to lower the height of the dam to a level, which would have saved the town. It was a beautiful city on the banks of Satluj, with famous plains of Sandu, palaces, temples and well- planned residential and market areas. The plain of Sandu was a huge flat grassland of about one and a half miles in circumference. Submergence started in 1954 and thirty-six villages went down in the waters of Satluj. This led to dispossession of people but the process has not stopped. We are still homeless. The feeling of being uprooted ends only when one dies, not before that.’
    ‘Bhakra Dam gave electricity,’ I try to cheer him up.
    ‘Yes, but to whom? People have to pay for it, it is not free. Those who lost their homes could never settle