BEYOND THE HORIZON

This one is for Ayush T K Hamal, Captain forever, beloved son.

I publish this today, a year after Jashan's classmate and friend, The Cherub, left us, and almost a year after it was written.

BD

BD walks his rounds at night. The kids are all in bed. They recognize his step, and those who are still noisily chatting away pipe down as he approaches and pull their blankets over their faces. It is so easy to spot the chirpy ones, and it is part of BD’s daily dose of amusement to stand quietly for a few moments. The youngest ones never fail to warm him way deep down inside to the very core of his being as first one then some more pipe up in timid voices that get braver as others join in. “Get to bed, you Kaddoos!”, they imitate him.

It is the most rewarding part of the day for BD, who is known for being strict. The children have adopted him. Pandemonium! Suddenly everyone seems to be awake and shouting, “Good night, sir!”, “Go to sleep, you kaddoos!”

BD has to come up with something new, they wait for it, “Awright, go to sleep, you nincompoops!”

The old wooden floors speak to him. The lights in the passage, dimmed now to smother some of their energy, speak to him. He tries to take the same route on each of his rounds, so that they can predict his coming and settle down in time without harsher words. He really doesn’t want to surprise them and spoil the little games they play or catch them at the mischief that children must make. There are times when he must startle and ‘raid’, but they are out of the routine.

The beam of the torch is aimed just above the level of their beds, not to hurt their eyes, and enough to seek out the ones who would stir again as soon as he leaves. The light pauses on some of these.

Up a flight of wooden stairs, bigger kids, rowdier, BD stricter, jokes lesser. Along a long lonely passage with lockers on both sides; even after forty years of this, he sometimes glances back over his shoulder, half expecting to see the resident ghost.

Down a steep flight of wooden stairs. Half his life ago, he would rattle and slide down these stairs so very fast… Here, BD’s wisecracks are laden with sarcasm, sometimes bordering on wickedness; the boys are bigger and he has a reputation to maintain. Some of them take his cue and join in to laugh at the hapless targets. They wish him “Good night!” and inwardly he feels a glow of satisfaction; he’s handling it right – strict enough to stop any nonsense and friendly enough to get them to volunteer a ‘Good night’. They don’t resent him, mostly.

More passages, more stairs. Wet smells. A ‘sentry’ scurries off at the end of the corridor to warn his cronies that BD is on the prowl. Some bloke is singing as he takes a wash before retiring. A couple of them are doing pull-ups on a water pipe that has never been known to complain. BD mocks them and eggs them on to do more, and ropes in a few bystanders, too! There is mutual respect for the good things between the boys and the older man.

Concrete floor, a row of beds on both sides as he walks down to the other end. Ninth graders. They settle into bed as he passes through on his way to the senior boys at the far end who always welcome him. That is one place where he feels especially blessed; it is usually a clash of egos with the senior-most ones, but these ones welcome him as a benign elder and a friend. Captain stays there.

Back through the ninth graders. A low clear voice, “Good night, sir!” Sweetness drips. This is The Cherub. The naughtiness is bubbling just under that angelic voice. Even if he breathes there’s got to be some element of fun or mischief involved in it! A couple of years ago he looked at BD’s untied beard and asked, “Sir, may I touch it?” Who could say no to such appealing innocence! Next question, “Is it real?” BD quickly pulled away before The Cherub could start tugging to find the answer!

Now BD smiles in the darkness, “Good night, buddy!”

A whole lot of others take the cue. One likes to think that if they say it, they mean it.

One night BD sits down on the bed next to him, “You feeling okay, buddy?”

“Yes sir!”

“Then how come you’re being so good, wishing me every night?” Giggles all around.

“Good night, sir!” This time there seems to be no naughtiness, only sweetness, blessed sweetness. BD can’t help patting his head and ruffling his hair.

........................................................................................................................................

Coach

Coach has been unwell this season. He has lost a lot of strength, from outside and inside.

In three months, he lost twelve kilos off his already lean frame. Then some virus found him an easy target. By the time they broke for summer, he was almost bedridden.

But he had planned and arranged a trek for the children. The kids were so eager, and their friends were gathering. It was not in Coach to back out now and spoil everyone’s holiday.

That trek to Pindari Glacier took away more strength from his body, but his flagging spirits rose as they saw glimpses of paradise. The joy on the children’s faces gave him something to be happy about.

Swimming has started in earnest after the summer break. There is a madness upon Coach. He seems to be trying to prove something. He is getting into the water almost every evening, steadily increasing the number of lengths he swims. He is demonstrating dives. He is deliberately defying the cold. Only Captain is privy to his inner world. Captain knows that Coach is fighting for fitness the only way he knows, “Get in there and do it!” Captain respects the spirit.

The girls always play in the water; ninth graders. They come more for fun than for any serious training. Coach likes it that way. If they play with the water, it shall always be their friend. Today, they’ve seen a metal bracelet lying at the bottom in the deep end. They dive in and out in an effort to bring it up. Now they see it, now they don’t. They merrily invite Coach to join them and help find the bracelet. He declines; it’s a long evening ahead, and he doesn’t want to get wet and cold this early.

When the girls go, the boys come on, and Coach soon joins them in the pool. He gets a couple of them to start looking for the bracelet. He wants to show it off to his daughter and her friends who could not get it.

The boys don’t see it. Coach takes a dive himself. He comes up before touching the bottom.

Again.

Just last year, he swam the length of the pool without surfacing even once. He goes in fast. A few strokes along the bottom. Up again. A few feet have been covered, but he’s not staying down long enough to sweep the area.

Perplexed, he thinks for a moment, plans, and goes down again. No luck. Two kids are going in and out with him.

Fourth plunge. Coach goes straight for the bottom of the pool.

The next thing, he finds himself gagging and sputtering at the surface. It takes a moment to remember how he got here. Even as he tries to stay afloat, there is a deep sense of peace and well-being upon him, almost luring him into giving up the effort and just lying back, receding into the place he has just visited.

The previous moment is alive in him. He remembers the rush of water by his ears as he dives in. Then, nothing.

A sort of gentle floating fall backwards into a darkness which envelops very lightly. A bright darkness. Not a darkness that smothers, stifles or suffocates. A very pleasing darkness. Not an absence of light; an absence of harshness. A light darkness.

Soundless music. No notes or tunes playing anywhere, but an absence of noise so sweet that the silence is musical. The ultimate melody; felt, not heard.

A feeling of immense, complete goodness. Peace; absolute peace. Contentment. A profound knowledge of having found the destination. Knowing absolutely that this is it. This is what makes life worth the while. This is where one belongs, where one has always been headed.

No anxiety or apprehension of meeting some greater power or being, just oneness, completeness, peace, harmony. No life. No death.

An insurmountable happiness. A very pure happiness.

The water seems so gentle, the brightness of the evening so soft. Coach is tempted to just relax and sink back. Small thoughts of what that would do his favourite sport, how it would affect these children who swim around him oblivious of his predicament, what it would do to his daughter who wanted to get the bracelet out.

Coach reluctantly tries to get control over his breathing and signals to the two fellows nearest to him. They don’t react. A little distance away Captain senses something amiss. He and PK rush in. Coach puts a hand each on their shoulders and they swim to safety. Coach laughs weakly. They sense his mood and smile with him. They love him, these blighters. The younger ones say they thought he was demonstrating some of the lifesaving stuff he often talks about!

After a few minutes, Coach gets back into the water and swims a length. He won’t let fear come close. He can’t. Captain and PK are at his flanks.

Coach has been beyond the horizon. He knows what lies there.

A few days later, his doctor runs every necessary test on him. All parameters are healthy. A second opinion confirms. Still, they prescribe some medicines. Coach takes them for three or four days, and then stops.

The all clear from the doctors gives him a new confidence. The return from beyond tells him that there is more to be lived. He adds nuts, dry fruits, garlic and honey to his diet. He swims with a vengeance. Ever so slowly, the needle turns and moves upwards. He has now regained four of the lost kilos. The swimming season ended two months ago, and he is now running three kilometres easily. Captain shares his secret and gives him the love of a son.

Coach carries the experience with him, and knows the bliss that lies beyond.

........................................................................................................................................

Almost four in the morning, BD opens his door to find The Cherub there, not feeling well.

The next day, The Cherub departs, into realms unknown.

Mayhem. It seems as if only BD takes time to pray. But that is presumptuous; surely there must have been many others.

Only Coach has been beyond the horizon. And BD knows.

It’s alright to miss him. It’s fine for those he has left behind to be sad.

But Coach has been beyond the horizon. And BD is Coach. The Cherub has reached The Destination.