I couldn't pen the exact translation for it is slightly lengthy.But the story is the same.
“Oh! God! I never expected such a fate. Even otherwise also who knows the next moment what would happen? “
Rambabu started examining the events and incidents that encased him within a short period of time. He was on introspection about the talk, leapt out of his throat, “I had objected to their wedding. Am I wrong?” He weighed and weighed his words again and again.
“You can do whatever you want and go wherever you like. I cannot accept that girl as my daughter-in-law. Don’t step in here again,” Rambabu set up a high yell, rude were his words and loud was his voice. Rambabu was an individual of acceptable personality and amicable modernity in every walk of life. But he couldn’t bear with what his son spoke at that moment.
Brahmins once were embellishing the society and knowledge and culture was their power. So all of a sudden siding with his son on that matter was not in his Brahmin mind. It was beyond his imagination to have that girl as bride to his residence.
“O! God, are you testing me? I feel sorry for what I said to my son,” Rambabu really thought it was the castigation for his action from Him to him.
Gopu,Rambabu’s son was a smart dynamic H.R manager in an M.N.C. He could substantially enhance the amount in his account because of his emoluments so exorbitant. He was an eligible bachelor with regard to education and job for the daughters of ambitious parents. And hence there was no dearth in proposal-entry to his house. But for all the ones Gopu stood facing the other side.
One day when Gopu nodded in negation for an attractive proposal, yes, Rambabu turned crimson with rage and asked, “Is there Shajahan’s granddaughter waiting for you?”
“Yes, I’ll marry even if a Christian or Muslim good looking girl proposes to me,” harsh and stiff was Gopu’s voice which had never shed such an audibility to Achchan so far.
Conversation between father and son was in a nutshell and somewhat a silence marched triumphantly there for some days. Gopu always sought the company of his face book friends and whatsApp group.
Continuous persuasion of Amma made him fumble before a good proposal, “Amma, I don’t want to marry now. My dame…um… because…I don’t want a marriage at present.”
“Do you have anyone in your mind? If so tell us. We shall go for that.”
Though his tongue he didn’t vibrate, his mind was swinging between ‘to disclose or not’.
Finally Gopu decided to unveil the secret. He had sold his soul to a cute smart Muslim girl named ‘Mehar’ who was ready for any sort of forfeit to obtain him. She was the younger sister of Gopu’s friend Naushad. His frequent visit to their dwelling had woven a pretty lace of love enthralling the lad to the lass. Both had decided to put off their union until the guardians parts were affirmative. They lingered optimistic.
But the fact was crystal clear that no attempt from any person would bring forth an agreeing signal from any of the two families. In Gopu’s house explosive expletives, in thunderous loud were spilling from Achchan’s lips. When Achchan was at the edge of defeat, he tried some tactful steps. He shifted from scolding to advice. But no good it did, father’s advice fell in deaf ears and sowed no seed of deviation from his wish. So again he lost his temper, “You do whatever you want, don’t come here with that girl.”
Conversation between Gopu and Ram Babu did not come to the forefront. It hid in their minds itself. Only the very required stuff in ‘yeas and nays’ sustained there. As usual dawn awoke them and night put them to sleep and other things rolled on the course of day time.
And Mehar’s parents were also smart enough to play their negative role well. They walked far away from leniency whereas Mehar stood adamant in her preference. Still demos of proposals were being staged in both the houses irrespective of their ward’s discontent. Days delightfully spun their time on the wheels of day and night.
One day Gopu felt as if he had a small pain on his thoracic part when he sat merged in his official task. As time grew tall the pain also grew high. As he reached home two three hours before the time schedule, his limbs very speedily sought the abode of bed. Gopu used to complain of a chest pain at times, but after a little rest and all he became alright. They thought it was of acidity or some gaseous trouble. But this time it was a bit severe with some unbearable unease. And hence itself he agreed to take the advice of a doctor.
“Gopu has come home early from office today. He says about a chest pain. Better take him to a doctor,” Sumangala to Rambabu.
“What happened? Earlier also he had spoken about chest pain,” the loving father in Rambabu leaving aside all the sulks took his lone darling to the nearby hospital.
The checkup as usual passed through the procedure of ECG. The ECG led him to stress test, Echo and Angiogram etc. The result was shocking.
“Gopu has some valve problem which is entering the stage of acuteness. Don’t worry, for the time being medicines will help him. But he may have to even go for heart transplantation. When we get a suitable heart it is better to do that,” the doctor’s tone was though soothing its firmness revealed the emergency.
The parents couldn’t believe what the doctor said, “O! God our son, our blood, he is our heart.” Words got wedged in their throat.
For about a month he was in the hospital and after that he was discharged from there on the condition that he will be kept at home as hospitalized. The hospital, his dear and near, his well wishers and all others having connection with them were in the look out of a suitable heart for Gopu.
Mehar, wedding, hospital expenses- insurance coverage was there- and everything had vanished from the parents’ minds. The watchword ‘suitable heart’ reigned in that house. Achchan swayed between office and house. Temple visits of the parents in alternate turns increased in number. Prayers at home hiked in mass .Food met its reduced quantity. Lips forgot smile and laughter. Minds burned .Hearts bled. The very calm prevailed in the minds had perched elsewhere.
“A heart. Where can we find one? This question was bubbling in their minds. The question mark of transplanting the heart hung in the entire terrain. Then one day a very important call from the hospital alerted them, “Bring Gopu immediately, we got a heart here. We’ll check if it will match his or not.”
A twenty five-year-old, named Karim had met with an accident; brain death was the upshot. His parents wanted their darling’s body parts to provide life to the needy. So the couple donated them to the hospital. Fortunately Karim’s heart was compatible with Gopu’s just as water to milk.
Within a few hours the surgery took place and the patient was kept in intensive observation for a couple of days. Gopu expressed signals of revival and survival and eventually everything got on track.
“Gopu is only twenty eight and so nothing to worry. There are cases that survived long after heart transplantation. Gopu will be one among them,” the doctor with a hearty smile. Karim’s heart started performing the music of ‘lub-Dub’ in Gopu. That heart didn’t say, “I am a Muslim, I will beat only in a Muslim’s body.”
“If that girl still hopes to marry my son, I’ll receive her wholeheartedly with stretched hands,” Rambabu repented from his heart of hearts.
Nature has no religion or region nor does the God have.Whatever comes on their way they accept or discard. The self-oriented selfish man only builds barriers between man and man, pulling religion to them for troubling the world.
The day of Gopu’s discharge had to receive a good number of guests in his house. Among them a couple with two pairs of filled eyes was there, Karim’s parents Fatima and Salim. They were watching Gopu even without batting their eyes. Fatima headed forward and sat by the side of Gopu..She put her hand on Gopu’s chest and whispered, “My son, my darling, you are alive, you are alive.” She slowly and softly kept her visage also on his chest and hugged him. The onlookers could not control their tears that showered as monsoon from their visual organs.