Mhaisal - a village, on the banks of the river Krishna, is in Sangli district of the western state of Maharashtra. Being on the boundary between Karnataka and Maharashtra, it is a confluence of cultures, languages and religions. Though the official language is Marathi, almost seventy percent of the population is bi-lingual. The highway to Bijapur and Belgaum, passes through the village. Agriculture is the main occupation, with sugar-cane, and grapes being the most important crops. Mhaisalkars are lovers of festivals, which are celebrated all year round with fervor and gaiety. (Map)
It is fortuitous that not only do I hail from Mhaisal, but chose, to spend my life here.


Saturday, November 15, 2008

All Vaccums Eventually Fill Up- Part II

Aslam came to me on Monday, with the news that he had been summoned to his son's school. The principal had told him that the school had received a request from a school in Belgaum, to send them his son's Leaving Certificate. Aslam refused to allow them to do so, and got from them the name of the school in Belgaum.
It became clear that the eloped couple had settled in Belgaum. I called a couple of my contacts with political connections, requesting them to help him get back his son. The next day Aslam went to Belgaum, and as expected his son was found there. The principal of the school refused to hand over the boy to him, as the boy's name had been changed, Aslam had taken with him the necessary record to prove that the boy was really his son. Luckily for him the boy too validated his claim.
The boy had a harrowing tale to tell, of the tortures he had suffered at the hands of his mother's paramour.
Aslam waited outside the residence of the couple to confront them, but they must have got information of his arrival, till late that evening they simply did not turn up. At last he returned with his son.
The next day he brought the boy to meet me.The boy was totally traumatised, He showed me the marks of the wounds inflicted on him. I consoled him. What really stunned me was the reaction of his second wife on meeting the child, she had simply embraced him weeping as if he was her own long lost child.
I hope she fills up that sacred place in the children's life, which only a mother can occupy.

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