Fort.

Savouring the majesty of state on crossing the moat surrounding the secretariat and dodging a stream of white ambassador cars with revolving red lights atop,speeding up and down the narrow road leading to the Fort , I entered the law department after getting myself a gate pass ,and showing the contents of my hand bag in compliance with the demand of a raw recruit ,unlike seasoned security personals who would have sized me by a mere glance and wouldn't waste their time and efforts in frisking me ,I found myself in the corridor of powers in my quest to renew my license to practise as a notary public.

Memories of my last visit to the fort that was exactly 5 years earlier came flooding . I had trundled around in the passage way of powers ,confused by the maze of corridors and offices tucked deep within its yawning recesses,weary bureaucrats,politicians reeking of power and groups of people seeking favours ambling around and the flapping of startled pigeons added to my bemusement. After handing over my application at 'tapal' I had decided 'then', to utilize the trip to visit the Fort museum as well as the quaint little church nearby.

The museum housing the relics of British rule was once the dancing room of the Governors.Clive is said to have thrown a ball there.The culture of dancing ,with free admixture of opposite sexes appears to be a part and parcel of Westerners custom since a long while ago.It is so unlike ours where we do not participate but only view as audience's ,trained classical dancers performing at podiums or in temples or folk dancers at street corners .Tribal women sway to the beat in villages or in forest clearings .In villages and in small towns group of women clap their hands synchronizing it with leg movements in 'gummi's and' garbhas' .Men are mere onlookers or are made to beat the drums to keep up the rhythm!Is this why Rudyard Kipling or some earlier English author commented' East is east and West is west and the twain shall never meet '?

There are slight changes in recent times .In north the families of the bridegroom and bride ,shake a leg together during 'Baraat'.And of late this culture has rubbed of on some south Indian marriages as well. 'Dhandia' the Indian answer to Ball room dancing is gaining wide popularity. Yet 'Ball rooms' or the joys of communal dancing associated with such structures has not percolated within our society.

Then I visited the church , as old as the fort. It was closed.As the caretaker assured me ,it would open shortly for the evening service , I stood around waiting outside the entrance on a marble floor shuffling impatiently as I had to get back home in time to prepare tiffin to satiate the ravenous appetites of my two sons on their return from their college in the next hour ,when I happened to glance down .

I shrank back in horror when I read the words clearly legible on the very floor or marble slab I was standing that ran 'Here lies Mrs....[an English woman] who died at age 40 ...... and so on in late 1700's .The gates of the church was opened at the very moment and I entered it hurriedly.

I was filled with remorse at the fate of that hapless woman who had to shed her life in an unknown and alien country far from her familiar shores and her final resting place to be trampled by all and sundry visiting the church over the years.This disrespect and desecration of the deceased wrought by stream of visitors and devotees could not have been foreseen then ,when the entry to this place of worship would have been restricted to a privileged few.

In hindsight, as things came to pass I have become aware that it is a cherished few ,who are lucky to die in dignity and peaceably in their home and hearth surrounded by their near and dear .