Before I start, I’d like to list crucial/ facts.
· 7:30pm-Hostel curfew.
· CP to LSR Hostel (minus traffic/optimistic calculation of time taken in an auto): 35 minutes.
· Probability of finding an auto that’ll go (in times of need): Nearly impossible
· Probability of finding an auto that’ll go and charge meter rates: MI-IV (Read as in the movie)
Having somehow finished my work, I found myself vehemently looking for an auto to get back in time at 7:10pm with obvious bad luck. After being denied/ignored/redirected/adviced for possible auto-hunting-places, I reached the Barakhamba road at 7:15pm. I was almost beginning to curse Murphy (which I do every time I miss the metro, get up late or miss breakfast) when Eureka happened-an auto to LSR hostel that’d go by the meter. Post my insistence on making it as quick as he could, my over optimistic time calculation and his ancient auto’s odometer that was probably too lazy to move, he decided to distract me.
Not that I generally scrutinize auto drivers to this extent but there was something about this old man. He was cheerful and strong, humble and honest AND educated. You read right, he was a graduate. In his stories, he narrated how he served the Indian army, earned Rs 10,000 as pension, rode the auto to stay ‘fit’ and ‘occupied’, was a singer once upon a time and a big fan of Rekha (the Bollywood actress). Then, he insisted that I listen to him sing.
I would have otherwise not qualified that as a very good idea, but when he started, he really WAS good. He paused (like a grandfather who thought the younger generation wouldn’t know of their times) after each line, to elucidate the lyricists’ and his own interpretation of the song. He sung melodious songs from ‘Umrao Jaan’ to ‘Pyaasa’-almost making me miss dad. He spoke of need for honesty and work to keep you busy, of Rekha -her beauty and love, of courage-a will for a way.
To all those who find this absurd, accept my empathy. Thinking about this encounter makes me feel exactly as strange as you might feel in reading my berserk post. Before you stop reading it any longer, let me tell you, the impossible happened. I found myself in front of the college gate at 7:35pm.
On my walk back to the hostel from the gate, I narrated this incidence to dad (owing to his love for old music). He said: ‘You never know in what ways God teaches you….’
Is there God? If he is, is he in temples of gold (made by donations of some corrupt leaders)? Is he closest to priests (some who own assets worth 1,000 crores)? Does he even meet atheists (assuming not praying is tantamount to that)? And irrespective of it all, if I (despite his and my hectic schedules of work/godly issues) do bump into each other, how would I know it were him?
In the brief journey (that should have actually lasted 35 minutes at least) where I met an ex-army officer/a fantastic singer/a quick teacher/an honest man, I may have looked beyond what is true.
I’m not a strong believer of God but as crazy as it may sound, today, he may have given me a ride back.
