Payanangal

22 Nov 12

I had hardly settled down in my II AC berth, thanks to my luck the lower one, when I heard the rattle-battle of this gentleman. Boisterous and absolutely spontaneous, his voice both chided a coolie and praised him at the same time for blocking his way to his berth. Even as I was wondering how can anyone praise and chide somebody in the same breath, this middle-past gentleman with curly grey hair and an open, irresistible smile arrived at the berth right opposite mine. Without wasting a second he said ‘hi!’ to me, paid the porter his dues commenting about the beautiful sandal paste that the porter bore on his forehead, wished a good darshan at Sabharimala, and accosted the young lad on the top berth with “ sleeping so early? Yeah, the young can sleep anytime!” – all in the same breath again. I could not resist smiling.

‘Are you going to vizag?’ he asked. I said I wasn’t.  

Unfazed, he asked ‘will you be kind enough to wake me at 0600h? I need to get down at vizag’. I said fine and also suggested that he tell the coach attendant since he would be more alert.

‘Good idea’, he said and in the next ten minutes are so I heard him inform the TTE, coach attendant and a host of others that he needs to be woken up at 0600h so as to get down at Vizag!

Having assured himself that at least half a dozen people will wake him up, he commenced his talkathon. While I would love to pen his dialogues in the greatest of details, it is well neigh impossible for I lack the spontaneity and verve that he had for striking up conversations. But I was so amazed at his determination to make talk, that I hesitantly joined in.

The conversations with strangers in India are actually predictable. They start with your destination; whether you stay there or just visiting; is it a work or a pleasure trip; so you work in the place from where you boarded; and so on and so on till your entire biography is revealed. In case you feel that this is an intrusion into your privacy, you thought so too early. Wait till the worldly wisdom is handed to you, of course free of cost, on how you must handle old age parents; what to do in case your child is not faring very well in studies; how to watch over working daughters so that they do not get bright ideas about falling in love with strangers (incidentally, till we fall in love with anyone, do they not remain strangers? I do not know the answer. It is so confusing!)

In the instant case, the gentleman found that I was not very talkative and rather boringly engrossed in my book. The poor lad on the top berth made only one wrong move – he came down to have his dinner. In the next hour and half that followed, I learnt everything that is to know of the young lad’s background (short of the mobile numbers of his girl friends) without having to open my mouth. As an incentive for listening patiently, I also learnt how the young lad could have convinced his father into joining B Arch as per his wish instead of meekly accepting the diktat of his father and joining B Tech in a reputed institution. As I figured, the lad was actually feeling sorry for himself when the well (sic!) meaning conversation  ended and ‘good night’ was said.

Indians are either bafflingly simple or simply baffling and at times beyond comprehension in so far as their curiosity to know others lives are concerned. Though at times it could be quite a charming way of passing time, I suppose it is better to confine our curiosities only to the mundane. Of course, it is my way of looking at life. Not necessarily the general Indian way of looking at others life!

24 Nov 12

You never know a friend, till you meet a stranger!

At Kolkata, I could manage accommodation in a dormitory. There were four youngsters and a middle-aged gentleman already in the dorm. Having reached at 0400h, I should have conked off till about noon. But around six, felt like sitting up. One of the young men around, who was already up, chirped out a ‘gooood morning’. As if by cue in the next fifteen minutes the other occupants popped out of their beds. The middle aged gentleman went out and promptly returned complaining of tea not being available. I ventured out, found a chaiwala and decided to carry six cups back to the dorm. Oh, you must have seen the hero’s welcome I received and then our session started. We kept belting out jokes and off-sides of our work and the whole dorm reverberated with laughters and giggles. Couple of the youngsters took upon themselves to make the single bath available to us elders. After a while, we all walked to the canteen for a round of breakfast. In about three hours we ended up making at least four acquaintances cum friends. I can only quote from a Jim Reeves number:

‘A stranger’s just a friend whom you do not know…’

In fact, one of them, the middle aged gentleman traveled with me further and we managed to discover so much of similarity in our thinking that I actually earned a friend.

29 Nov 12

Kolkata never fails to amaze. There are millions of people always in an animated state in a place on Earth that Bengalis call as Kolkata. At 0600h on a winter morning any other place on Earth would be hardly awake. Clad in sweaters and jerseys, carrying their Tiffin bags and tools, mouths full of paan and the atmosphere generally rent with brisk conversation – the commuters at Kolkata suburban railway station,  actually make an interesting picture. You just have to stand and watch and remember not to hurry. If you do, you will miss something that you must indulge in. As I stood sipping a cup of tea and watching, one person asked me something in Bengali. I blinked and said ‘sorry, no Bengali’. A passer-by remarked, ‘no Bengali, no answer’ He actually meant that I cannot answer the question that the earlier man had asked!

After finishing my tea I asked a man for the platform on which Howrah bound local train was expected. ‘Two for normal and three for hurry’, he said. The train for Howrah on platform number Two was to leave after 20 minutes and the one on Three was leaving just then!!! Who says wit and humor are rare these days?

To get to spend time with someone you like is also a matter of luck. I was lucky. A friend for quarter century dropped in to say ‘hi’ in the same dorm where I was put up earlier. Sometimes it is hard to say when the mundane meets the metaphysical. You may talk or even remain silent, but time spent with someone you like is always pleasant. That is why you find young lovers merely staring at each other and sitting for hours together. They may not have spoken a word, yet there is no void in between! Actually their cup over-floweth!! It is the same with friends and anyone with whom you vibe.

If you do not believe this, try an experiment. Walk in to a busy chai (tea) shop and sit there without speaking a word with anyone. Pretty soon you would first wonder how people can pass time talking about triviality so much. At some point of time you may even get irritated with all the clatter that surrounds you.

Then you go to a bhajan mandali (prayer hall, preferably Hindu, where people sing songs in praise of the Lord. Hindu prayer hall is better because you will find a variety of instruments and conches being sounded by people who have never practiced together as an orchestra). Immaterial of the time you spend there you will find no irritation at the clatter that surrounds you. On the contrary, you will find peace and joy in the clatter. Why is this so?

The answer lies in vibing with your self. While at the tea shop, you were unable to connect your self with the hum-drum. So the irritation came. In the bhajan mandali, behind all the sound bites, a thread connected you to your self. So, you felt elated and happy to be there.

Getting back to my friend, we never realized how the few hours went. Some dosas, some talk, some book-shopping later, I was on my train.

30 Nov 12

The journey back home ends today. Apart from the job for which I had traveled, the most beneficial thing that happened was the time I got to read ‘Ramana Maharishi’ by Arthur Osborne. It is a book that must be read by all those whose spirits are troubled and all those who think they are happy. In simple terms - ALL. My impressions on what I read and what went through my heart and mind is the subject of a separate chapter in my diary.

So long, farewell, shabba kheir!