Short Story: They Too Climbed The Hill

– Saurabh Kumar Chaliha

-Translation: Wing Commander (Retd) Sisir Kumar Barua

“What is that distant light?”

“ That is light of ‘Fire sticks’ .That is a Khasi Village, named ‘Smit’ or something like that. May be ‘Laitkor’ or ‘Lum Ciem’”

‘‘You are not sure?’’

‘’Many days have passed, I don’t remember’’.

‘‘What is going on there?”

‘‘Today, a festive night”

“ ‘Nongcram’  dance?’’

“No, may be it is not the time of ‘Nongcram’ dance. May be  ‘Shwad Chuk Minciam’. Or some other festival”.

“And what is that sound?’’

‘‘That is sound of drums-and flute and hear the song; and do you hear the sound of guitar?’’

‘‘Is that is sound of guitar?’’

“May be ‘Two strings’, a Khasi musical instrument. Sounds like Spanish guitar”

‘‘Nice to hear from such a distance.’’

‘‘And small dots of light of distant fire sticks are also, beautiful. IF you climb a little more, you will see thousand and thousand globules of light.’’

‘‘What are those?’’

‘‘That is Shillong.’’

‘‘You know  all about the hill? Do you know how to go to that village?’’

‘‘Not all, a little only.’’

‘‘The same hill you wrote to me about? The one you came to climb alone?’’

‘‘Yes ,this is the hill I wrote to you about. Sometimes I used to come when I remembered you very much’, Not alone initially; used to come with Bibha &  Nibha for morning stroll .Very early. Then I came to know the hill.’’

‘‘ Bibha, Nibha were very young.’’

‘‘Six ,eight years. Now they have grown. Five years ago. Tired ?’’

‘‘No not at all.’’

‘‘Will  you be able to climb a little more?’’

‘‘Yes .I too want to see your Shillong lights?’’

‘‘I remember a short story I read long ago every time I came here. I do not remember the story now, only the name -‘They too climbed the hill’’

‘‘They too climbed the hill. What a beautiful name!’’

‘‘I used to think about about you. I used to ponder about that  you and me both would climb the hill, the tallest, the most friendly hill of friendship; never imagined someday it would be possible. ‘

“But today I am climbing the hill with you”

“In a way, but yet, I can’t believe that we will keep climbing forever. I do not want only to climb the hill, I do not desire it by itself alone, I also want you beside the hill, as I yearn for the pebbles and the streams, the grass and the pine trees”.

“The hill is yours, the streams and the pine trees are also yours.”

“One wish is fulfilled today.”’

“The other ‘wish’?”

‘‘ I have no guts  to ask  for it. A ‘wish’ I had five years ago. Now, also I desire it, but have no courage, have no right. Do you see anything?”

‘‘ No: what is it?’’

‘‘Yes, darkness slowly consuming, Nothing is visible. Mist will descend shortly. Can you hear the sound of pebbles below your feet?’’

‘I do.’’

‘‘And the whispering sound the wind is making through the pine trees.’’

‘‘Oh’’

‘‘And somewhere, the sound of crickets?’’

‘‘Is that the sound made by crickets?’’

‘‘Not sure, maybe the sound of crickets.”

‘‘I am also hearing that.’’

‘‘And I remember a book of Japanese poems. ’Full moon & sound of crickets’’

‘’’Full moon & sound of crickets’. Beautiful name. How much reading you are doing? And writing?”

‘‘ Do you remember my letters written five years ago. How some days I used come to Shillong to visit aunt and think about you.’’

‘‘Yes. You wrote- ‘you are sitting on a rock on the hill before dusk. Down below a stream like a thick thread is flowing, The sound of flowing water is filling the evening of the silent hill, hour after hour no human to be seen; sometimes suddenly a wood cutter would appear around a bend  with a  load of fire wood on his shoulders, come down close to you and gradually disappear in zigzag fashion-and the hill, stream and pine trees and your thoughts and wishes, the wind whispering as it blows,  your hair & the muffler on your neck getting disheveled.’“

‘‘You  rightly remember. My thoughts and wishes not over yet, But for that I do not have the courage any more, nor right to wish. Are you feeling cold?”

“No. The breeze  is not cold, Instead I am enjoying. Have you brought your woolen scarf?”

“Oh, take my overcoat, will you?”

‘‘No need. I too can hear the sound of pebbles and grass under your soles. At night when dew falls on grass, will the same sound be there?’’

“No, at night similar sound does not occur. Have you heard the name U Cho Tham?”

‘‘U Cho Tham’? No I have not heard? Khasi Name’?”

‘‘A Khasi poet; now dead. You reminded me of one of his poems’’

‘The dew drops glitter in the morning light.

I will go far in search of pearls.

Away from home my heart will suffer.

Then my accumulated tears will turn into pearls.’

‘ I also have roamed so much in last five years away from home. Again you have lost balance; hold my hand. Only two more steps after that you will see something beautiful’’

“Shillong light?”

“No, something  else. A light, many days old. May be its there today’’

“What is that light, I am eager to know, very   curious.”

“A short distance only.”

“Why don’t you make your wish? Last few years I have returned you empty handed, out of duress. But now I am with you, today I am climbing your hill ..?”

“Right .Four five years ago in the end, you had  said to  me –‘the wish  which does not hold the hope , no assurance of fulfillment –I should not harbour any such hope”

‘‘I had told you –‘as you wish’”

‘‘Yes. I said that under compelling circumstances;  very compelling circumstances.’’

‘‘That is also true.’’

‘‘Will you stick on to that ?’’

‘‘Will you like it if I don’t ? I gave you my word.’’

‘‘Oh. You gave your word. Surely you will insist on that…..how far ? What is that light, I will very much love to know.’’

‘‘A little more. Meanwhile you listen to these, the sound of drums and guitar in the far off Khasi village, our story and their songs, and sound of crickets, blinking  light of fire sticks, Rows and rows of steady quiet stars……… Here we  are……. Climb the last step, look between the two pine trees……… Do you see?”

“Oh yes, a star, a beautiful star.”

“Look at  the way it is inclining   from the middle of the pine trees. Sometimes the star moves away from there , then I have to move to another stone, or somewhere else then the star appears again between the trees. Sometimes the star moves much above or below, that day it cannot be brought to the previous place.”

“Then do you feel  sad ?”

“Yes I feel very sad.”

“A  very beautiful star.”

‘‘My  star, my radiance, my existence, your star.’’

‘‘My  star ?’’

‘‘Yes your star. I give it to you.’’

‘‘Thanks. Then this is mine. I can use it the way I wish. Will it obey me.’’

‘‘Why  not?  It will  give its life for you if needed.’’

‘‘Oh the star you have given me, surely will listen to me, surely will give up its life for me.’’

“You gave me your hill, I gave you the star. Tonight is carnival night at the Khasi Village. Tonight the sound of crickets, noise of the spring, whistling   of wind in the pine trees  are all drowned by sound of  songs and  guitars and drums of Khasi young men & women, tonight is night of ecstasy for them, their night of fulfillment, tonight, the stars and rows of city lights are dimmed by the light of thousands and thousands fire sticks, Now excitement pervading  Khasi Young men and women in living through the wondrous night, drum beats are getting quicker and quicker;–now I give  you the star which I kept for you, I have fulfilled my wish.”

“And the ‘wish’ you sought from me? Why don’t you fulfill the ‘wish’ you wanted from me?”

‘‘I have told you, I cannot have that ‘wish’. For that I want a surety of promise, I want a promise that my wish will be fulfilled; a positive assurance.”

“What will give you that assurance? What will give you the surety of fulfillment of your wish.’

“I  can’t  say, I don’t know.’’

‘‘Am I not the  surety ?’’

“You are not. Something else,  something else.”

“Something else ? OK let it be. Very soon we will climb to the highest point of the hill, Lights of Shillong will fall on our eyes, then we shall again return to the City, back to our lives. Before that once again look  at the Carnival lights, hear  the dance tunes ;  the music of joy , this too  is the music of fulfillment of your wish, I am  that surety; The wish you wanted to be fulfilled – only I  will be able give it to you. I do not know whether you believe or not that if one sees a shooting star, whatever he wishes come true. Look, look how the star is falling between two pine trees, how it is giving up its life for me…..”

(Translated from Assamese short story ‘Xihoteu Pahar Bogale’ by Saurabh Kumar Chaliha)