Listening to a real Love story…. In Snowdon Hospital in Simla of Seventies

Listening to a real Love story…. In Snowdon Hospital in Simla of Seventies

Bauji fell ill… while we were living at Chhotta Simla Post-office redidence. With very high blood pressure and bleeding from nose he was taken to Snowdon hospital where he remained hospitalized in the private ward of the newly constructed, fully concrete block, a marvel for us. My two younger brothers, kids as they were, looked upto me for all moral and all other support. I would prepare food in the morning and would take it to Bauji, on way to my college. Would again go to meet Bauji while coming back from the college, and then walk back to Chhotta Simla. By that time Bittu and Palu, my kid brothers, would be back from school. In the evening three of us would walk to the Snowdon hospital taking food for Bauji and then stay there for a pretty long time till late evenings.

As Bauji shared his room with another gentleman, a comparatively old man, who, seemed to me, almost lonely as no one ever came to meet him during the time we would be there in the evenings. His servant would bring lunch and dinner for him. He, too, started waiting for three of us, my brothers and I, to visit Bauji as it would transform the dull hospital room into a living quarters till we all were there. We all became a very living group.

That old gentleman lived in the middle Bazaar, very near to the Shiv Mandir and that set the ball rolling as he was almost living in another alley a few flight of stairs away from our Lower Bazaar neighborhood.

In the evenings when we would start talking to one another, the old gentleman started sharing his life story with us. The story was do interesting that every single evening we would wait for the next episode as he would recite it everyday, in psrts. It was straight out of the fiction to my young heart as it was the real love story of the gentleman and a girl he was passionately in live with.
I don’t remember the exact details now but the pure live that reflected in his wrinkled and old face spoke of the intensity of feelings he had.

According to the fragments of details that Iam trying to recollect…the gentleman when a young boy was living somewhere ordained to be an ascetic. And when he was sent to someone’s home for some performance…he looked at a young girl and fell in love with her. Both belonged to altogether different faiths and moreover the young boy could not renunciate the life he had selected for himself….or must have been ordained to by the quirk of fate!!

What I remember if the story was that on the day when the earth shook hard, the earthquake, changed everything. I only remember that he talked about the city of Queta where the girl lived and the boy, alingwith his gurubhais, would go for some performance.

The boy came to Simla leaving his aashram and many years later found the girl of his dreams in Simla!! They met but since both belonged to different faiths. Many years later someone, a friend, told them of civil marriage where both could marry keeping their faiths intact. And according to the old gentleman, reciting the story of his life, this was the first civil marriage under this act in Simla.

I had entirely forgotten about this lovely love story that I listened to in the concreted new building of Snowdon hospital.

His wife had died. He lived alone in the same house where both of them lived in Middle Bazaar Simla, near to the Shiv Mandir. And then with pure love in his eyes he said, “on my birthday she would make halwa in the morning….” and continued, “she still comes to wish me on my birthday!!”

My brothers, young as they were, cuddled close to me, even I was a bit startled but this was the purest love that oozed out of his very pore.

When Bauji got discharged from hospital we went to meet him to his home where I saw the picture of his wife.

That was the first Love story that I had heard to at a place where body ailments are healed. Many in the group must be knowing about this story. He was quite well known as I have read some earlier posts about them.

I am not writing the name as I don’t know whether I should or not share his story….the story that I heard in Snowdon hospital in Simla of the Seventies.

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