As I ran down the office stairs, my jubilant mood escalated with my descend. Why not? I was going home after so long. I hurried to reach my flat. But wait... I won't forget to have a cup of tea at my favourite tea shop 'Navin's tea shop'. The ginger flavoured tea!
"What happened sir? You look very happy today!" he said with his usual way to greet any customer.
"Is it? Actually I'm going home, after a long time. Let me have some tea first."
"Home!!! This is a marriage season. Are you getting married or engaged? And escaping from inviting me!!"
"Not mine. My cousin's."
"I have heard that one of the projects, here, has closed down and many employees are on bench right now. They were expressing their worries as they sat here having tea. That's life. Someone is happy, the other is not! Take your case only ,You shall be happy on the marriage day, someone else might be fighting to fix his life. That is how it is sir ji, completely balanced." Philosophy is a part of human nature with varying magnitude. We were not mere his customers but had some common intellect share.
It was a very common journey the next day. Everything was usual like waking up after five snooze alarms by my mobile, having Maggi in breakfast, waiting long for autorickshaw or bus to station, autorickshaw charging two rupee more than the actual fare, my co-passenger arguing for that two rupee, me ignoring the same, my train 3 hours late, unnecessary rush and commotion while entering my AC compartment. Yes, everything looked perfectly usual.
My compartment was very youthful. A MD student going to join BHU Varanasi after completing his MBBS. A young couple with two years of married experience... pardon my jargon, it happens when you are in your professional world for continuously long! And me. Rest of the seats out of six were vacant.
We had ethnic diversity too. Shailaja Shankar (Hi! if you are reading this) the MD student, was from Orissa, The couple were from Bengal and me from Jharkhand . In this diversity, I sensed a similarity that we all belonged to the states of Warren Hastings, retrospectively. Overall I was satisfied with my co-passengers. If you are an avid traveller then you know how irritating some times they can be. If a small kid accompanies your co-passenger then be prepared to have an earplug better have an earphone and listen to all the songs you ever stored in your mobile. I remember one such case in my earlier travel, I had my lower berth and a woman with his one-year old kid had middle berth and upper berth for her husband. I was having my supper, the railway meal, they too were eating their home-brought food. Suddenly the kid started wailing. And in no time his Huggies was inundated, sprinkling few over my seat. Though they cleaned it with a piece of cloth but it was very repulsive to sleep there. That could have been OK but I was unable to overcome the idea of getting a shower from the middle berth at the middle of the night! I very politely requested to her husband to please take the lower berth stating the inconvenience for a mother to get up to middle berth with a kid, which he easily accepted. Ho oh! Saved.
This time it was different, as I said it was a youthful compartment. With in few hours we befriended each other. Mr. Shailaja had a laptop, so we watched two movies back to back. I was having a comfortable time pass with an add-on to have a look at the pretty lady in front of me, ignoring her marital status! Boredom grew stronger after Varanasi when I had to part with his laptop. Anyway a hassle free travel is always considered best in Indian railway. Time to time I would go to the gate to have some fresh air leaving the couple with their own time. I have always been fascinated with air thumping over the face while journey. That's why I always insist for window seat (and so do others). Standing over there, looking at the lands, and listening to the song is my perfect idea of journey, only thing left is a comfortable chair over there to make it more perfect. Passing villages one by one showed a particular pattern of habitation. As the train passes you start with a cottage, earthen wall and few bales of hay as a roof. A well for few cottages together. Soiled and unclothed children running here and there with their potbelly. Medically speaking, they were suffering with Kwashiorkor (deficiency of protein and vitamin). Oh! the medical student had had an impact on me. As the train moved into the village, came the brick wall (with soil used as an adhesive) and earthen tiles as roof type structures. Here you could find a hand pump and drums and utensils strewn in its vicinity. Next came houses with unplastered cemented brick wall and concrete roof. Depending upon the riches of the village it might contain plastered house too. Amid all the scene of poverty, malnutrition and housing problems, in this section of village you could typically find a small but adequate Cricket field. It was evening time and I saw 8-15 year olds play with a home carpentered wooden bat and a rubber ball, the wicket being made up of 8-10 bricks put one atop other. Few others were busy teasing the passengers in the train or waving good-bye. Interestingly, one of them shouted, "Look, Wheel of the train is loose. Look there!" Of course not. But they intended to laugh if any of us (the passengers of the train standing at the door) would peep at the wheel. As i neared them, I replied a smile to their so called concern about our safety. They smiled in return and waved goodbye, I too waved them back. A few minutes later the train approached the village's railway station containing: boards stating station's name at both the ends, an entrance gate and hall and few cemented bench. It was here that you could feel the importance of four stairs put below the doors of your coach because the station does not have any platform. As the train chugged away you see the descending order of the way of habitation. Kilometer after kilometer, same pattern follows until the train hits any town which are typically surrounded by garbage. It is well said that true picture of any country can be seen through the windows of its railway. And I felt the same way.
"Sir, give me little space. I have to regulate the AC." Oh! The attendant. I went back to my berth. The couple were pre-occupied. I started reading a book named 'India Unbound'. I liked this book in a sense that you don't have to hurry to reach to any conclusion. It flowed with time. With examples from the life of the author, Gurucharan Das, it presented a vivid picture of socio-political-economic, with an emphasis on economic life of the country spanning last seven decades. Its one of the idea which interested me is his analysis of the leadership of our earlier leaders and the direction we were heading post independence. And to add more you don't have to be any avid reader of economics or sociology to feel and appreciate the nuances of author's opinion.
Next morning, at around 11 am, I reached home. This was my cousin's home and I had come here to attend his marriage. As in every marriage broad things were taken care of leaving the nuances, which caused time to time hiccups of low magnitude, and got solved in the end. For example one hiccup which I solved was 'Lose of chunri'. It started when bride was being taken to stage in the reception evening. Suddenly my sister found the chunri missing. A whole set of drama started. From one room to other including kitchen, with a man-force of 5-7, everyone was almost hunting! Suddenly I saw few kids giggling at the corner. It intrigued me. I inquired them about what they found so funny. They pointed their finger towards a person. Oh gosh! It was cameraman... he was shooting each and every activity of this episode... the marathon in the house! The more funnier way of search or more awkward place of search, the more screen space you get; that was my cameraman's rule. Anyway I let the reel roll, they would treasure those funny moments. In the mean while my brother whispered me to bring one from market as soon as possible to stop this mayhem. In a few minutes chunri was where it should be.
In no time, one week was over and I had to return. I reported to office the very next morning of reaching Lucknow. As usual my friends were waiting for me to have cup of tea. As we moved out they asked me to come to office canteen. Canteen! Why? What happened to our favourite ginger flavoured Navin's tea?
"He moved out. There is no shop there." commented one of my friend. Later I discovered that the park beside his shop was renovated and in this renovation, municipality has forced him to shut down and move away. The event was of last Wednesday. After my tea I went down, to just see, in case! The place was very clear. The Park was clean. In this scorching sun, there was hardly anyone in there. I don't expect anyone even in the evening as it is a commercial hub with government and private offices only. But Navin had to go! I never knew that the last cup of tea and his philosophy were so true to themselves.
