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Wednesday, June 6, 2018

THE FLOATING DIARY (Short Story Journal – 10): HASNUHANA

Dreams are important. They shape the human soul within us. It is important to keep them alive, even though they might be someone else’s dream! Before my amnesia wipes off my memory, I want to capture one such dream in my journal, so that I can dream it again! Yes, I might sound a bit weird, but I have a dream that my father dreamt many years ago, and I want to fulfil it.

Today, while fiddling through the unused drawers of my wardrobe, I found something really precious. It is my father’s prized camera! It is a vintage “Yashika” motor-wind film camera! Baba bought this camera when I was thirteen years old and has been his favorite companion for many years. In all our holidays, in all our excursions, this camera had always been an inevitable part of the journey. I must say that I have inherited two of my biggest hobbies from my Baba. One is gardening and the second is traveling. Ever since we moved to Mumbai, Baba had taken me to different interesting places during our vacations. Every year we backpacked and traveled to various unconventional places. During these trips, Baba would enthusiastically show me things and teach me lessons, that have become an integral part of my character. The love for trekking steep rocky terrains, the joy of bathing in a forest fountain, the urge to see the sunrise amid sand-dunes, everything has percolated into my soul through the eyes of my father. Baba had a passion for photography. Even though he was an amateur, I always thought that the photographs he clicked were extremely good. He could maneuver his favorite “Yashika” like a pro and I grew up watching him with eyes full of appreciation. Every child should idolize somebody, and for me it was my Baba.

When I was fifteen years old, my father brought home a “Hasnuhana” plant and asked me to nurture it. He said, “Pravin, if you take good care of this plant, soon it would present you with beautiful night blossoms whose fragrance would make every day of your life special!”

I obeyed his orders and took good care of the plant. It grew well, and soon reached a decent size at a corner of our garden. I felt happy to see the content in Baba’s eyes, however I was yet to receive the present from the plant. Buds arrived in the branches and my heart sprang with happiness and I waited eagerly for them to bloom. Then, one morning, as the dawn broke, I opened my eyes amid an ethereal fragrance that filled my entire room, which was just beside the garden. I rushed outside and saw the beautiful white blossoms that had bloomed overnight and had filled the air with their sweet fragrance! Baba stood beside me and patted on my shoulder. I felt happy and hugged him.

About three years ago, my father planned a vacation for us. He had already retired from his job and had transformed himself into an intrepid traveler, along with my mother, his constant companion! This time, the plan was to visit Lachung Valley, in Sikkim, where Baba’s best friend Haroun uncle lived. I took leave from office and the three of us embarked upon our journey. Sikkim didn’t disappoint us. The beautiful mountains, the snowcapped peaks and the exotic flora and fauna of the hills overwhelmed our minds and souls. Here too, Baba carried his favorite “Yashika”! The entire experience of our tour through the natural beauties of North Sikkim still remains fresh in my mind!

In Lachung Valley, we stayed at the private bungalow of Haroun uncle, in the outskirts of the township. From the small garden in the front of the single-storied bungalow, we could see the beautiful snowy peaks of the huge mountains! The view was enthralling and the air was fresh. It was a perfect place to rejuvenate one’s body.

One morning, Baba took out a packet and went to the garden. I followed him and saw him planting something. Baba looked at me and said, “Pravin, I am doing an experiment. In this alpine soil and climate, I am introducing a Hasnuhana plant! I believe, this one would survive here, in the wild and when we come back after a few years, we would see the beautiful white blossoms blooming here!”

Both Haroun uncle and I had our doubts about the success f this endeavor but Baba said, “After four years I shall come here and with my camera I would click a photograph of a fully grown Hasnuhana plant in full bloom! Haroun, promise me that you would take good care of this fledgling and help me realize this dream!”

Haroun uncle nodded in agreement and so did his young gardener, Umang Singh. I could see an excitement in the eyes of Umang that gave me the confidence that he would keep his words, whatever happens. Soon, the vacation came to an end and we returned back to Mumbai. Over the next few months, Haroun uncle often telephoned us and provided enthusiastic information about how the Hasnuhana was growing up! Baba was indeed correct! The Hasnuhana did survive in the alpine soil of Sikkim. As time moved on, the frequency of the phone calls reduced further and topic faded away from our minds. However, Baba didn’t forget his dream and often told me about his plans to visit Lachung valley and click the picture of his favorite Hasnuhana.

Two years ago I lost Baba and Maa in the fateful accident and the same year Haroun uncle also passed away! My world has also been in the middle of a whirlwind as the wretched amnesia attacked me. Yet, today as I sit here with my Baba’s favorite “Yashika” in front of me, I want to make a promise to myself in writing. In the next two years, it would be four years since we visited Lachung valley and it would time to keep my Baba’s words!

I would have to go to Lachung valley, and visit Haroun uncle’s bungalow, which now belongs to his nephew. I know, Umang the young gardener would be waiting for me. I saw that promise in his eyes that day. I would click a picture of the Hasnuhana in full bloom. My Baba’s dream would be complete when I would print this picture and keep it beside the photograph of Baba. That day would be one of the most special days of my life!


Indeed, dreams are important. They keep us alive. Even though Baba is no more, his dream is alive in me. I must dream this dream and make it come true. The blooming Hasnuhana in the alpine soil of Sikkim, with the ecstatic fragrance of its blossoms awaits my arrival, for Baba and his favorite “Yashika”!

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