Short Story: 'Chakku', Destiny’s Chosen Child

Anshul Chakraborthy, AKA Chakku, was somewhat famous.

While everyone around him called him ‘Destiny’s Favorite Child’ – he hated that phrase. But it was his mother’s using the phrase to describe him that made him livid.

“Chakku! It was your all destiny. Nothing could touch you. Floods, tornadoes, lightning, thunder…nothing could take you away from me! You were destined to live,” she would say repeatedly.

No thanks to you he thought bitterly.

So yes, Chakku was a bit of a legend. Or, rather, how he survived the claws of death was the stuff legends were made of. He was nine years old then and his younger brother Vishal was two when they went to Rameshwaram on one of his mother’s annual pilgrimages and fulfil one of her offerings to the Gods. As she had done with Chakku, Shakuntala had prayed to the Gods at Rameshwaram that she would bring her second son for a darshan and promised to shave his hair off as penance for all their collective sins.

God knows she had committed a truckload of them, Chakku thought bitterly.

Once the mundan (hair shaving ceremony) ceremony was over the three of them went to bathe in the Ganges when nature suddenly struck and a flash flood completely flooded the city of Rameshwaram. Vishal was snuggled in Shakuntala’s left arm while she held on to Chakku tightly with her right hand when the water gushed out and struck her hard. The impact was too much and the baby started to slide down. During that terrorizing moment when she feared she’d lose Vishal, Shakuntala also had to make one of the worst choices in her life. A choice no mother should ever have to make. Trying to stop the rapidly sliding baby meant she would need both hands. Using both hands meant she’d have to let go of Chakku.

It was a split-second decision that Shakuntala had to make.

And she did.

She let go of Chakku’s hands and tried to save the baby. Chakku was washed away into the flooding river. Shakuntala yelled and screamed out for help while a few others floating by saw Shakuntala and her baby and pulled her inside a nearby two-story house. The house was flooded too, so they quickly shoved her up the stairs even as she screamed that her older son was being swept away by the huge waves.

Luckily, or as his ‘good destiny’ would have it, as Chakku was hurled into the flooding water he found a broken electric wire hanging from somewhere above. The wire was hard and despite the fear of being electrocuted Chakku held on to it and dangled from on top as he watched the roaring waves wreak havoc in the temple town. The brave kid held out for as long as he could. Some two hours of the water’s raging fury later, Chakku lost consciousness when the water receded just as suddenly as it had emerged. When the rescue team arrived they found an unconscious kid hanging on to his dear life with two bleeding hands. In a town where more than 100 adults had died, little nine-year-old Chakku’s survival was hailed as a modern-day miracle. The town elders and tourists who survived the tragedy looked at each and gestured toward their foreheads.

“Honi ko kaun taal sakta hai?”

It was destiny, they hailed.

The boy was meant to live and live he did.

Shakuntala’s joy knew no bounds when she saw her older son. She rushed to him and hugged him and kissed him even as she cried and then thanked the heavens above. It truly was a miracle.

If an obviously ecstatic Shakuntala prayed and thanked the Gods for her son’s life, Chakku - who had literally survived to tell his tale – could never forget what had happened that day. Oh, not the fact that floods had ravaged Rameshwaram that morning. But the fact that his mother let go of his hand. He felt a growing sense of unease towards his mother. How could she? How could she let go of his hand?

He had heard stories where mothers bartered their lives for that of their children.

His mother let him die.

His inner self argued back with him that it had been a difficult choice for any mother to make. Shakuntala made the choice that seemed right. The baby needed help. Chakku could possibly take care of himself but not the baby.

Over the years, as he heard Shakuntala tell one and all about Chakku’s miraculous survival story, the unease he felt slowly began to take on a more potent form. Unease turned to anger, which turned to simmering rage and finally left him with a deep sense of betrayal at the hands of his own mother.

He thought about the incident constantly.

He cursed his mother while playing gilli danda with his friends. He raged when hitting a ball high up in the air and imagined it was his mother’s head as he played gully cricket. He argued with his favorite God Krishna when he visited temples with his parents and when they celebrated his and Vishal’s birthdays.

But he did it quietly.

No amount of logic, no amount of trying to make sense of the situation could take away his growing resentment towards his mother. Over the years – as he became more and more morose, and bitter - his grades in school dropped.

And no one quite knew why.

Those were the early aughts and ‘depression’ had still not made its appearance as the disease du jour or even an excuse to have said disease du jour. So Chakku’s illness went undiagnosed.

Shakuntala, on the other hand, continued her life as she always did – somewhat clueless but mostly happy. She never knew that since that incident Chakku hardly ever slept. And even if he did sleep – nightmares about drowning always woke him up. But she, like everyone else around her, was unaware.

By the time Chakku reached his eighth grade, he barely passed his exams. Given his extraordinary academic accomplishments till the accident happened, it started to concern his parents. And then there was the eating. As he consumed more – he became heavier, slower, and lazier. The less he slept, the more he ate and as his laziness and weight increased, so did his hatred towards his mother.

*********

“Chakku? Chakku? ANSHUL! Wake up!”

Chakku tossed and turned, as always. Shakuntala, her husband Harish, Anshul, and Vishal were spending the weekend at a resort near Mahabalipuram. One of her husband’s clients at State Bank of India where Harish was the general manager gave them two nights and two days free at the MGM resort for a favor done. Shakuntala wasn’t happy with the timing. That particular weekend was Maha Shivratri and there were many events organized by the local temple where she was a regular devotee. And she would much rather spend time there than go on a two-day vacation to the beach.

But...life interfered.

The kids had exams the next week, Harish was going to be out of town, and hell, this was a free trip. So there they were…determined to enjoy their two days and two nights stay at the plush MGM resort.

They arrived on Friday night, checked into their double bedroom (the hotel arranged for extra mattresses for the kids), ate a hearty dinner consisting of spicy Chettinad chicken and lemon rice, and called it a night. But not before Shakuntala made Chakku promise that the two of them would wake up early and go for a walk by the beach. It was to be their special bonding ritual.

Not to mention Chakku could lose some weight, she thought.

She had read somewhere that it was essential for parents to make time individually for each of their kids. That way they felt special. And Shakuntala chose that particular weekend to start her new plan. If Chakku was secretly aghast at spending time with his mother, he didn’t let on. He just nodded and flopped into his mattress.

As always he couldn’t sleep. His hatred of the nights aside, his mother’s snores that were louder than the trucks that honked and rumbled past on the empty east coast highway pretty much sealed his fate. He was awake till about 430 in the early morning. It seemed like he had just fallen asleep when he could feel someone shaking him. He had indeed just fallen asleep. It was five and his mother was shaking him quietly and gesturing to him to get up. He stared at her as if she had gone mad. And tried to close his eyes and fall asleep again. She shook him. Again and again. But Chakku who had woken up by now refused to get up and pretended to be fast asleep.

A determined Shakuntala gave up after five minutes and muttered, “Lazy boy. Lazy, lazy boy! What will ever become of him? Lazy. Lazy boy.”

And walked out of the hotel room in a huff.

*********

The phone rang. Harish and Vishal were still fast asleep. Chakku looked at the clock. It was seven in the morning. He could hear some noise - the sound of people running in the corridors outside his room. Somewhere in the distance, he heard people yelling and screaming. Was his mother one them? Now what? Chakku picked up the phone and managed a sleepy, “Hello?”

***********

They never found Shakuntala’s body.

Hundreds of people perished in what were the worst floods that had ever taken place in the history of Tamil Nadu. The entire coastline across Mahabalipuram was washed away. All those who went for an early morning walk were swept away by the huge giant waves that erupted suddenly. This was bigger than the Rameshwaram floods. It was bigger than the Dhanushkodi tragedy in the 50s. Already, hundreds were said to be missing. And the death toll was due to increase every second.

If family and friends thought Chakku would sink deeper inside himself after the tragic death of his mother, they were mightily surprised. Chakku rose to the challenge even as a devastated Harish and Vishal fell apart. Chakku, all of 14-years-old now, arranged for a symbolic funeral for his deceased mother whose body was never found.

Mourners were astounded at his control. They admired his poise in the face of such 
adversity. Thank God for Chakku! they said to themselves as they saw Harish fall apart each time someone as much as touched his shoulder in sympathy. If a few others wondered about Chakku’s extraordinary control over his feelings and emotions, they did not voice it out loud.

It had been a long, long day. A tired and physically exhausted Chakku returned home alone – Harish and Vishal were spending the night at his grandmother’s. The peace and quiet of the empty home seemed weird. He was dying to clean up. Take a shower. Go for a long walk. Maybe even play cricket with his friends. It had been so long since he’d played with them. He decided to get a quick bite to eat since he hadn’t eaten for over 12 hours. He opened the fridge door and found it overflowing with many of his favorite nibbles. But, surprisingly, he had no appetite.

He did feel exhausted though. As he mentally geared up for yet another long night of insomnia, he sat down on the sofa and leaned against the backrest for a quick minute. And fell fast asleep.