Jugnu

It was a special day for most including me in the village. One of my cousin brother was getting married to his love from the adjoining village. He had to wait five long years before he could convince the family; the girl did not belong to the same cast. He overcome odds and the mores of the society to marry her.

The house was beautifully lighted. Streamers of small blinking lights and shiny paper strips ran all around the house giving it an appearance of a well lit night sky. One could also smell the fresh coat of paint which added to brightness under the shimmering lights. The place was buzzing with excited chatter and laughter. The womenfolk had finally got a respite from the incessant housework and chores and the men were busy making arrangement to receive the bride - the 'barat' which was expected any moment. The kids were not to be left behind, they ran around chasing each other; the place provided an excellent playground for hide and seek.

This story is not about the wedding. It’s about Jugnu, the village drunkard. I happen to meet him when I was looking for a hot cup of tea to keep myself warm on that chilly October evening.

Jugnu looks out for these special occasions as he gets to drink as much as he can without any care. Everybody in the village felt that he has destroyed himself while Jugnu blames it on the time.

"Do not delay punditji, I want to get married in this life", Jugnu jokingly pleaded with the punditji. "I am busy today... don't worry we would sit someday soon and talk about it", said punditji trying to avoid Jugnu. Punditji gave him a slip and disappeared in the merrymaking wedding crowd.

Jugnu had withered with time but still towered over the gentle folks of the village; he was at least a foot taller than most. While I settled on a comfortable chair with my cuppa of tea, Jugnu was going on with his monologue after punditji had left the stage. He tried to hide that he had been drinking but his breath gave it away.

“You tell me sir, what should a man like me do when these girls pursue me to marry them? I have three chasing me but there is this one girl who is after my life. I have to get this done before I bid adieu to the world”. To be polite and save myself from offending him I nodded and smiled. Taking this as a cue Jugnu pulled a chair next to me and continued.

“I was one of the best volleyball player in the school. I could spike the ball just next to the net in the opposition’s court. I was lauded and touted as the volleyball prodigy. I won many a shields and trophies for my school. As the fate had it, I tasted this bloody alcohol.

My grandfather and father did well in education and were looked up to in this small part of the country but I dropped out of school. I couldn’t even get past the 10th standard. I wasn’t too bright a student and couldn’t differentiate geography from history. I didn’t apply myself and fancied myself to be the local hero; it was my choice or my fate. Once I had no association with the school my chances of making it big in the volleyball circuit were gone. I had no choice but to help the family in the fields. I failed again… I couldn’t set my mind on doing the field work and preferred the company of the villager loafers and today I lead them.

If I would had been married at the right time, I would had couple of kids today.

I want to get married and I can’t delay… I am 39 and have been drinking for past 21 years. I have met many beautiful girls and have had a good time with them. They strayed me but I do not blame them. I still remember this fair frail girl who I met when I had been to Calcutta looking for a good price for my farm produce. When away from home it was a secret ritual for us youngsters to look for a prostitute and have a good time before we come back to the villages and and went back to doing the same thing over and over again. It helped us to exploit our youth and taste freedom.

I fell for her and wanted to marry her. She was a Muslim, she was too beautiful - straight from heaven… I couldn’t take my eyes off her and was charmed. Without a thought I asked her to marry me. She though I was joking but when I proposed again she was taken aback... I feel I was the only man who had been kind enough to make this offer to her. She told me that she was a Muslim and it would be impossible for them to get acceptance. Moreover the pimp would not let her slip; if he finds about any plans to escape the city he would slaughter both. I even lied and tried to pass myself as a Muslim from Ghaziabad to counter her objection. She was amused by my feeble attempt and laughed her head off. I looked on while she had a hearty laugh - I had never seen such a beautiful laughter in my life.

She could see the love and desperation in my eyes to possess her for life. I wanted her to run off with me. I tried to argue and convince her that religion and caste are man made; to the almighty all are equal. She refused to run off with me... she feared for my life. She asked me to have a good time with her and when I was about to leave she handed me 1000 rupees for my journey back home. I was heart broken.

Each day I remember her and drink to her… I could have been somebody had it not for the bad times. No man is bad; it’s the time which is good or bad”.

I barely drank the tea while he told me his story… I was moved and tried to sympathize with him by mumbling some comfort words. I could no longer look into his moist eyes.

“The 'barat' is here… they have brought the bride… she is beautiful", someone shouted and broke my attention. Their was noise and commotion all around. Jugnu went on with his monologue while I left the place to watch the splendid 'barat'.