Ranadhir Mukhopadhaya

Aphelia and the Flatland of Truth

He first met Aphelia on the tenth day of Devi pakhshya, i.e., on the Vijay Dashami day when the deity of Devi Durga and her children were brought in procession for immersion in the sea. The venue was the sandy estuarine beach of Miramar. It was October. The wide swath of bay waterbody, overlooking the Governor’s palace on the top of a hillock on the left and lighthouse on the top of the Sinquerim hill to the right, keeps the eternal record where the river Mandovi loses her identity in the salty fluid of the Arabian Sea.

The vast aquamarine was reflecting the deep blue sky, devoid of clouds. The soft cool breeze was only heralding the possibility of an exciting and impending long tourist season in the State.

Aphelia knows purple suits her skin colour best. Standing erect and looking at the setting sun, she was at her best, looking ravishing. She like heels, but today a flat-based sandal was adorning her feet.

A few days ago he discovered her first at the Durga Puja pandal in Mapusa. She was looking at the deity of Durga for a very, very long time….and he was looking at her. Was she praying silently? She is an Italian-Bengali product from Bologna, but now in Goa on a year-long fellowship to research at the National Institute of Oceanography in Dona Paula.

Famous for its lengthy porticos (now a heritage site of UNESCO), towers and churches, Bologna is a town in northern Italy. It is a well-preserved historical city. The city has under her belt several appreciations- being declared as ‘European capital of culture’ in 2000 and as the UNESCO city of music in 2006. The local and federal governments have carefully restored and aesthetically conserved the city.

Aphelia takes huge pride in the fact that she studies at the University of Bologna. Of course, she has a reason to be delighted of. It is one of the oldest universities in the world, established in AD 1088. The university has a large student population that gives it a cosmopolitan character.

Before Aphelia could turn around she felt a soft tap on her left shoulder.

‘Oh, you are here. Never told that you would come to this place, or…

‘What’s that your “or”?’ I said

‘No, no, it is fine. Come on Punyasloke, I know you are ‘not’ trolling me.’ Aphelia was a little sarcastic.

Punyasloke was trying to muster up some excuse

‘But let us now stroll a little bit’ – Aphelia saved his embracement

‘Yes, sure!! But how come you are here today? Missing your home?’

Aphelia did not say anything. After few steps, she slowly raised her face and looked at him. Punyasloke could see two deep blue beautiful ponds of unfathomable depth….…but despair. He was taken aback.

‘What’s the matter?’ Punyasloke honestly enquired

‘You know my mother is a Bengali lady. I could only think about her after seeing at the eyes of Devi Durga.’

‘Hhmmm!! So that’s the reason why you are off-mood today. But then, because of your half-Bengali background, and of the cultural teaching of your mother that you could appreciate the Durga Puja festival more intensely.’

‘Yes, I am a half-Bengali, for which I am proud of. More so, because my mother was an active communist student union leader in JNU. Whatever I am today, it is because of her. I leant from her to feel an event or the essence of a book deeply rather than just seeing or observing an incident.’

They walked for close to two hundred meters in complete silence. So many people either overtook or crossed them, small children were playing football, so also several others doing freehand exercise. The dogs playing in the sand, the smaller temporary creeks being created during high tide across the beach, and the unending desire of men and women to trim down to an acceptable body size & shape, continue. It is always been nice to see such a crowd. Each one of them is different. Their perspectives varied.  Punyasloke does it very often, whenever he comes by this side.

But it was different today. He has never handled this sort of situation so far. How to solace a girl who is thinking about her mother so acutely.

They sat on a little raised sand dune, not covered fully with vegetation.

‘You know Punya, my strength comes from my mother, who in turn probably got it from Durga Maa.’

Punyasloke kept quiet allowing the lass to open up. We all seek strength from Devi Maa. It is altogether another matter of how many of us deserve to receive the same.

‘You know well, that the Durga Puja festival exemplifies the victory of good over evil, as Goddess Durga killed the demon Mahishasur. She is associated with protection, strength, motherhood, and the destruction of the wicked. ‘Who do you think is Mahishasur in the present time?’ Aphelia asked.

It was well past the sunset, and getting dark. These two young persons have left all behind- the procession, the jeering crowd, the traditional bands, the bells, and all those who wanted to negotiate with Devi Maa one for the last time before she was being immersed in seawater.

‘I can list many- social intolerance, corruption, religious bigotry, politician-police-goonda nexus- there are many. The list is endless.’ Punyasloke responded.

Aphelia smiled- ‘I cannot agree more than what you have said. The disease is the same everywhere, throughout the globe. The way corruption generates more corruption, power comes to a more powerful person. But then there must be singularly something extremely unique that remains the mother of all evils in the society.’ She looked at an open message on the cell phone.

‘Yes, I agree. See this festival which has evolved over the centuries, so also the values of the society. Every year we have a new devil waiting to be killed by the Devi.’

‘Do you have any idea when it all started?’

‘Are you asking for the evilness or the festival?’

‘The festival.’ Aphelia replied

‘I am not sure when exactly the mass celebration of Durga Puja festival started. But if you want to believe in folklore then probably the festivity started in the late 1500s (sixteenth century). The landlords or zamindars of the districts of Dinajpur and Malda in north Bengal initiated the Durga Puja. The rituals and the thoughts of this puja have much evolved since then.’

‘You know Punya, my city Bologna is one of the wealthiest cities in Italy, often ranking as one of the top cities in terms of quality of life in the country. The city has been an important agricultural, industrial, financial and transport hub, where many large mechanical, electronic and food companies have their headquarters. Even the city conducts one of the largest permanent trade fairs in Europe. But then there is something missing in the whole environment. My mother longs for that and now the same has intruded into my psychic.’ She again looked at her cell phone.

‘What’s that?’ The conversation got a little serious.

‘I think it is the Truth which has either vanished from the world or is vanishing fast.’

‘Many of us love truth, but do not practice it.’ Punyasloke appears to agree with the girl. And he continued- ‘the truth, unlike an opinion, is not open to debate. And as it does not require confirmation, it is expected to encounter great antagonism.’

‘My mother is facing the same dilemma these days’- Aphelia was almost whispering, -‘being a faculty in the department of philosophy in the university, she deals almost regularly with fact and truth. The fact is that she is a Bengali-Indian-Italian, but what she misses badly is the truth for humanism. Her friends and family members were all telling facts there, but all those were not summing up into truth.’ Aphelia lamented.

‘There is only a fine difference between facts and truth I agree. Facts are based on empirical research and quantifiable measures and proven through calculation and experience. Truth on the other hand embraces much more than sheer facts, as it includes belief and the context. In another way making good of facts is true. This difference if not understood accurately could be quite disturbing.’

Both kept quiet for several long minutes. Looking again at her cell phone Aphelia was wiping her eyes. Little surprised Punyasloke now took her cell phone to read the message. ‘Let me see what is disturbing you since the evening.’

The message on the cell phone reads- ‘My dear daughter, your mother has left us today for heavenly abode.’

Completely surprised and dumbfounded, Punyasloke looked at Aphelia. He was complete jittery, his body was shaking.

This time she broke down completely keeping her slender head on the shoulder of Punyasloke. She needed this yell. Holding the message, the boy by the corner of his eyes could see Devi Durga is slowly getting immersed in seawater. He had no way to pacify this inconsolable girl.

Today the fact and the truth, and the departures of the Devi and her mother were accommodated on the same page.

Ranadhir Mukhopadhyay

21 September 2021, Goa