Scattered Fates - a novel on the second partition of India

by Ram Garikipati

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  As they walked towards the University library, Maya marveled at the architecture. The pointed arches in granite and domes with octagonal base captivated her it was far removed from the grandiose soviet style buildings in Pyongyang. Everything was so understated, yet classy.

  Naga went to the reception counter, while she admired the various wall paintings that were on display. He returned with two ‘visitors tags’ and motioned her to come.

  ‘The librarian was no help, as she has no clue of a retired economics professor who visits here daily. This is a huge place with hundreds of daily visitors we have to find your man ourselves. Will you be able to recognize him?’

  ‘Sure. I think I can.’

  ‘Let’s start with the newspapers and magazine reference section. We can then try the Economics section.’

  ‘As you say.’

  The library was almost empty, with just a few students in sight. In fact, all of them were there only to catch up on the latest newspapers and magazines. The rest of the library, including the economic section was eerily quiet. No one was interested in dusting old books.

  No old man in sight. Guess all the students are busy in the canteen.

  ‘Are you sure he comes here every afternoon?’

  ‘That’s what he told me.’

  ‘He lied.’

  ‘Why should he? He seemed genuinely helpful.’

  ‘I don’t know. Lots of old people have fantasies of East Asian girls.’

  ‘Please stop it.’

  ‘Just kidding, let’s go, maybe he is still in the park. We can walk across the road.’

  ‘You are right. He looked very old. Maybe he just dozed off in the shade.’

  ‘Hello young lady, you again,’ a weak voice stopped them in their tracks.

  They turned around to find an old wrinkled man sitting on the bench just outside the library doors.

  ‘That’s him, Naga!’ Maya screamed.

  ‘No need to raise your voice, it’s very rude.’

  ‘Sorry. That is the old man I met at the park.’

  ‘You can call me Professor Ganapathy,’ the old man replied. ‘So you came looking for me?’

  Naga strode up to him apologizing.

  He looks very familiar. Have I met him before?

  ‘Sorry sir. My friend is just excited. This is her first time in this country. She is from Corea.’

  ‘I know, she told me. Very attractive, are you sure she is just your friend?’

  ‘Yes, I am just helping her. My name is Nagarjuna, I am a reporter for The Hindu,’ he replied.

  ‘The Hindu? Boring paper, I stopped reading it. Deccan Herald is better. Who is the editor now, after Ram joined politics?’

  ‘Mr. Venugopal is my editor. He is former editor Kasturi’s son.’

  ‘Yes, I know Kasturi, he was a fine editor. Ram made it a communist newspaper. I hope the younger generation improves the quality.’

  ‘Sir, many people praise my newspaper for its quality.’

  ‘Yes, I know. But it is always pro-establishment.’

  ‘That is not true. Ram was anti-establishment. He exposed so many corruption scandals against Jayalalitha.’

  ‘You are right. He was a fine journalist, but not such a good editor or politician. I heard he is planning a peace summit with Sanjay Nehru in Delhi. Maybe he wants the Nobel Peace Prize. I am definitely voting for Rajanikanth this time.’

  ‘Sir, I hope you can give me a copy of your article,’ Maya interjected, tired of all the negative talk.

  ‘Oh, yes. My article, I should warn you, it is very old, the circumstances have changed.’

  ‘I am interested in your opinion. Has it changed too?’

  ‘No, of course not, come, let us go to the library,’ he said, getting up.

  ‘Sir, when did you retire?’ Naga asked.

  ‘Ten years ago. Taught here for 30 years. Great memories. That is why I keep coming back everyday.’

  ‘You were here during the Great Protest?’

  ‘Of course. How can I forget?’

  ‘So you knew Professor Subbaiah?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Professor Subbaiah, who organized the students protests.’

  ‘No. I don’t remember anyone by that name.’

  ‘How can you have not heard of him? He is a very famous freedom fighter, and he was also Head of the Economics Department’.

  ‘Young man, don’t raise your voice, my memory is quite sharp, I never knew anyone by that name. Anna and MGR were the leaders of our freedom movement,’ he scolded. ‘I am not feeling well. Why don’t you kids leave me alone?’

  ‘Sir, your article…’ Maya protested.

  ‘You can check it yourself. Search for P. Ganapathy Iyer, ‘ he said, turning around and striding off, without as much as a glance back.

  ‘What’s wrong with him? What did I say?’

  ‘No idea, maybe he really doesn’t know your father.’

  ‘That can’t be. They must have been colleagues, it is really strange, nanagaru was in the university from ‘64 to ‘75, in the same department.’