There is this path in the interior of Ratnagiri. It is a dust track – red, hard earth. In the summer it gets dusty, and when the wind blows, the dust blows with the heat. No such dust during the monsoon and winter. In winter, the air is heavy; but the cold, as such, is just the Ratnagiri kind. The rains, by comparison, are something else altogether. It is cold during winter, but not all that cold. Summer is sweaty, but not really hot. But the rains clam you up proper. The water makes a tremendous sound and attacks from all directions.
There isn’t any crowd on this by-path. There is this slushy kind of lake here. You may see occasional white lotuses there. There is moss everywhere all the time. Some egrets visit that water body once in a while. There is a well there too, but it is quite lost amid all the weeds and shrubbery surrounding it. Lined with stones gone black, it's not a pretty well to look at. There doesn't seem to be much water in it either. When it rains, you can see some mysterious water deep down inside.
One side of this path has pretty dense, wild vegetation – a profuse tangle of trees. There are some teak trees, standing erect. These teaks are not bent and twisty like the coconut trees beyond. They shoot straight up. A dense litter of crisp leaves below.
One such teak leaf fell in the still, clear water of a puddle down there in that red earth. The sunlight had preceded it, but when the leaf floated in, the rays got on top of it. White leaf. Small compared to the other big leaves that had fallen around it. Its veins are quite clear, its edge is rough. The upper edge dips into the water such that it is difficult to separate the leaf from its reflection in the water. There is a muddy twig next to it. A leaf sometimes gets caught in a channel, arrested by a stone or a piece of stick, or something. But here the water was still. And since there hadn’t been any rains, it lay stagnant, and now this leaf resting peacefully on its surface.
Which of those trees could this leaf have belonged to? Could it have fallen off because the tree’s need for it was over? Could the tree have caused it to fall? Why did it fall exactly where it had fallen? When would it have sprouted on the tree, and how long would it have stayed there? When did the process of dying start with this leaf? I didn't have an answer to any of these historical questions. But I saw that leaf fall on the water. That sighting was definitely something I possessed, and I don’t think I have any sense of guilt about it.
Teak wood is strong, very strong. This leaf that carries some of the strength of that wood lies in front of me, waiting for death. There are not many teak trees on this path. There are about as many here as in that wild patch there. And they are fine. Nobody has got after their lives yet. There is still plenty of space around here. The leaf fell on a spot in that place, and I stood close by. We were quite close. I got closer. The leaf looked beautiful, lying in that still water. For the sake of that leaf, I would have wanted to stand alongside those trees. But I was not a tree, so I couldn’t stand there beyond a period of time. So, after some time, I went home.
Came home. The flat where I stay measures 525 square feet, and it is in a two-storey building. Whether somebody else had stood there before the building came up, and whether a similar teak leaf had lain there then, how can I know? The leaf that I saw falling into that puddle of still water and lying there, that, of course, I knew. It had become obligatory for me to look at that leaf till so long as I could see it in that water every time I passed by.
The leaf had turned whiter with all that sunlight falling upon it. If I looked at it unblinkingly, it would create illusions at the upper edge. Could be that the sun and the water were playing tricks. The edge seemed to appear and disappear. I was watching one single teak leaf with both of my eyes, of that I was sure.
What if I fell dead right next to the leaf this very moment? People would gather in a little while. Going by the history of the path, they may think it's some drunk lying there. But by and by, they will know that it is a dead human being. A little more by and by, there’ll be quite a crowd gathered around. Still later will come the relatives and the neighbours. Then they would be bound to dispose of the body at the assigned place. There would be some chatter alongside. They would have got to know from the doctor, meanwhile, how the death occurred. Whatever information is gathered, the disposal of the body will happen at the hands of other human beings, that’s certain. It’s not as if this is exactly how it will happen, but the chances are strong. Once dead, you can only assume, so this can only be an assumption.
But the path that this leaf’s death takes is different. Nobody has gathered here. Just I and a few words alongside. Don’t feel like speaking in spite of possessing words. So I went home. Pulled out a notebook from a wooden shelf. Rested the tip of my pen on the first line of the first page and decided: I would not let this leaf’s death go to waste.
What does it mean?
It means that this was probably an escape route. What can I say with any certainty? I was seeing the leaf finishing off every day. I had these words for company. No people had gathered around. People surely will gather when I die, for some time at least, some people at least. They have no option before them, really. A corpse has to be disposed of, like it or not, so people will gather. People gather when people die. People gather even while people are dying. People also gather to kill people. Even otherwise, people gather. Otherwise means: for interactions related to the act of living. If an example has to be given, it can be of this place close by on the other side. There used to be some four to five shingled houses there that were ready to collapse. A year back, a two-storey building was erected at that place. There are many more families living there now. There were two jackfruit trees at the edge, which are now inside the compound of the building. There were three or four betel nut trees, which have now disappeared. That was a good place for people to live in. People gather, then, for the sake of living.
Excerpted with permission from Leaf, Water, and Flow, Avadhoot Dongare, translated from the Marathi by Nadeem Khan, Ratna Books.
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