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Apart from mouth-watering food, proximity to Lalbagh has been my reason to move to south Bangalore. For the past few years, I have become a regular. Earlier it was all about running, which I have cut down and mostly into walking. The knee injury has been on and off.

Some faces, families in the park have become familiar to me. We will exchange pleasantries, ask about well-being and continue with the walk. On one of the occasions, I spoke to Radha and Satish, the elderly couple in their 60’s. They are regulars and would spend hours on the video call, sitting at the chair by the lake.

As we age, we need more company of people to talk and share our thoughts stories. I vaguely remember folks talking if the park will get closed due to COVID numbers climbing in the city and across the country. Satish told me about his son, who lives in Seattle, working for Microsoft. As a proud father, I could see happiness in his eye. Radha was silent. Satish also mentioned how he and Radha got married against their parent’s wishes and moved to Bangalore. He was sharp with analytical skills and got a job as a clerk at Canara Bank and, life changed for good. I told them I am from Bihar and, the conversation took a turn where Satish mentioned his stay in Patna during Lalu Raaj. I told him I was too young to have known about it. Radha said she misses her son as it has been over two years and, they had not seen him. His work him too occupied.

Last month I was back in Lalbagh, I saw Radha sitting on the same bench beside the lake. A girl in her late 30’s was sitting next to her and, Satish was missing. I exchanged pleasantry and got to know about the demise of Satish, COVID and, his pre-existing heart complication got him departed. Radha was crying and, the girl introduced herself as Laxmi was holding her. It was their daughter, about whom Satish had nothing to mention in our earlier conversation.

Laxmi mostly stayed away from her parents after graduation because of the transferable job of Satish. She got married to her classmate against all the wishes of both families. Intercaste marriage was unacceptable to them.

Radha told me that it was her daughter who was beside her in the tough time. It was Laxmi and her husband who went hospital to hospital for bed availability or buying oxygen cylinders. Nothing could save Satish. It was them who did the last rites.

Radha was grateful that even after abandoning her daughter, she came to take care of the elderly during COVID. Her son could not come because of the suspended flight operation from the USA.

Laxmi and her husband want Radha to live with them in Mysore, but Radha does not. The old patriarchy, social construct comes back as a gatekeeper.

How could she live with her daughter’s family when she has a son?

Conversation

I was on multiple calls last night. I was talking to friends after many years. We were grateful that we survived the COVID. The uncertainty about life during this period gave food for thought to most of us.

Most importantly, it made us realize the importance of being self-content and not losing ourselves on the externalities.

One of my friends has transformed and seen a new him who is a seeker of self. It is great to see how people in their early 30’s improve themselves, getting closer to themselves, accepting as they are.

Our modern society has so much to make us envy, jealous, and making us feel unfulfilled. The choice is ours or, either we fall prey to it, run for the next big thing, or be self-aware.

For some, no wealth or love is enough. For many others, it is all about seeking within, loving company of self.

We have to seek what we are looking for. In the end, this journey is ours.

In short, great conversation.

Naukari

Ratnam had every qualification needed for a sepoy role in UP police. It was his last attempt. He had no plans to follow the path of his elder brothers and cousins, who were successful gym trainers and part-time bouncers at clubs in Noida.

He had his dreams and wanted to pursue them at any cost. At first attempt, he got rejected in medical round after clearing written, physical, and interview. He skipped the second entrance because of a high fever.

I was on the way to Agra via Yamuna expressway. We had stopped for a while after crossing the Delhi suburb. It fascinated me seeing a 6 ft tall athletic-built guy with navy-cut hair and brown eyes running alone. While he looked malnutrition, at the same time reminded me of ultramarathon runners.

I waved at him and, he stopped. Blame me for screwing his tempo. I asked him if he was preparing for the Olympics, he laughed and said the Olympics is for a week, unlike cricket. I nodded in agreement.

Ratnam: Sirji, kahan se aaye? (Where have you come from?)
Me: Delhi
Ratnam: Akele, saadi nai ki? (Single, no wife?)
Me: No, aap? (nope, what about you?)
Ratnam: Naukari ke baad.(After the job, will be getting married)

Then he started walking. I gave him company. He told me how desperate he was for this UP Police job and about the money he has lent of high interest from village loan sharks to pay a bribe if it secures him the dream job. He told me about dozen others from his village who joined the police and how wealthy they became in no time.

He followed his parents’ ideals and principles of getting a job with merit the last few times and failed miserably. So this time, hook or crook, he needs to qualify.

I wished him luck and left.

Dil

Dil lagane me aise masgool ho gaye ke zindgi jine se mehroof reh gaye. Jina tha zindgi sadgi se, jina tha zindgi apne khudi se. Par kambakhat Ishq ki bemaari mae aise phase ke koi mauka na mila zindgi ko jine ka dilaggi ke alawa.

Tukde tukde me baante gaye dil ko khairaat samajh ke, phir bhi na mile dil ko jo talaash thi. Beeparwaah khud the, gair nahi, chahaat khud ke liye thi.

Dil khol diya apna bina kuch mange gairo se, dar-b-dar dil ko liye bhatakte rahe umneed me ki sayad kahi, kabhi manzil mil zaye.

Dafan hai wo aaz apne dil ko liye, peekdaan baan padi hai mazzar unki. Kabhi kisi mushairee mae jikr ho zata hai unka, dilageee ke liye nahi lekin dilpheek, dilzale aashique hone ke liye.

Charity

Neki kar dariya me daal. (do good and forget), it was a thing in the past. These days charity comes second and, publicity about it comes first. The charity has become more of marketing. Is it because we are hollow from within and, the slightest of external appeasement gives us pleasure.

About a dozen-odd friends involved in charity and NGOs are doing it because it gets the credit for MBA admission. A few others now and then share across the social media platform about their contribution.

I am not saying that some of them are not genuine, but I feel most of them are not doing it just for external appeasement instead supporting the cause.

Junoon

Ek Junoon hai, kuch kar guzarne ki chahhat hai. Ek ladakpaan sa jaan padta hai zindgi ko jine ka jasba.

Naaumeede, sitam, gum aur kuch naakamiyoo ke sitam ka kuch aser sa hota jaan nai padta.

Agar khud me hai khude ke saath kuch karguzarne ka junoon. Kya khuda, kya koi auur rook satka hai bhala?

Khud ki zindgi ko apne marzi se zinge ke liye khudi aur junoon ka jasba jaruri hai. Kyun kare hum parwaah kisi auur ka?

excess

We are living in a world where we are indulging in abundance. We are more connected, which is a blessing and curse at the same time. We have money to spend lavishly, join the gangs of consumerism.

At the same time, we are empty than before. Our craving for love, recognition, and likeness is more than before.

How much of this matters? How much of this excess keep our chatter at peace. How can this excess fill the internal void? When we are broken within, will buying or vacationing somewhere off destination be going to help?

battle

Do we know what others are going through? How do we know pain and challenges in our life are more than the rest? How can we compare our life with others?

We are all granted a limited amount of life on this planet and, most of it is painful and, the quantum can differ momentarily. But does this mean we should stop living the life and go on being depressed or crying for what we don’t have?

We live in an ultra-connected world where it’s easy to feel sad seeing what we don’t have and what others have. Social media is for only showcasing a good part of our mirror/canvas/projection. It hides all the battles, challenges, and scars we go through in everyday life.

Do we know what’s going on in the mind of your waiter, driver, cook, or your boss? How is there life, challenges and battles treating them?

Our stoic philosophers must be laughing from above seeing the kind of animal we have turned into, the virtue of empathy has no place on this planet.

Chota Hanuman

We all would call him Chota hanuman. Somehow on Tuesday, he would show up in our mohalla visiting door to door, wishing everyone good luck. When happy, he would read our palms. I remember mom feeding him and slipping some coins into his pocket. Like a baby, his face would light up.

What was his real name? He would limp to his left leg while walking because of Polio. He must have been 14-15 years old, stout and dark complexion with long hair.

I moved to Delhi for higher studies and forgot about Chota hanuman. My local connections became limited. As we grow, life throws enough challenges that we get sucked in our own little bubble, and detachment becomes a virtue.

Sunny Winter of December is my favorite, the clear sky after a foggy morning. I was out for a walk. I crossed sweet shop, Sanzi Bazar and Bus-stand. At Hanuman temple, my eye got fixated seeing a living creature sitting next to the Idol. There he was: Chota Hanuman, with eyes closed in dhyana(meditative pose). I wanted a closer look to affirm my confirmation. A man in 30’s wearing a costume from Ramlila. He had red Sindiur, aggarbaati, flowers, and coins lying around him, along with fruits and sweets. An elderly couple offered some bananas to him. I wonder if they confused him with the original Idol.

I walked close to him and whispered: ” Chota Hanuman Ji ki Jai.” He instantly opened his left eye, observing his surroundings for a moment, and replied: “khus reh beta.” He asked for my introduction and promised to visit later in the evening. I felt sad for my mother because she would make a feast out of Chota Hanuman Ji’s visit.

At 5 pm, Chota hanuman arrived in a rickshaw and introduced himself as Kishore. He said he would stay brahmachari ( unmarried) like Hanuman Ji.
I told him I would get married at some point, although I had crossed the age of marriage. We laughed, exchanged jokes, and got back into our childhood. I asked he continues being a Chota Hanuman, to which he said
” Atul Ji, ab to Marte dum tak Chota Hanuman Saath rahega” (I will continue being Chota Hanuman till my death). He chanted some Sanskrit sloka and told me about giving Sanskrit tuition to school students. He has to show up in Hanuman’s getup every Tuesday at the temple. It gets him extra income and keeps him closer to people and Hanuman Ji.

He also admitted Sheeplishly that he is not a palm reader. It’s the uncles, aunties in mohalla(town) who put him into it. He carried the act while talking gibberish and making all happy. Was he crying? Were his eyes wet?

Then he threw a googly cheekily with mischievous eyes: “Ramlal Ji bhi monthly allowance dete hai humko”( a rich Marwari Seth of my town pays him monthly allowances). I asked why. He smiled and said, “30 saal pehle bete ko bola tha neta Banega, ban Gaya” (I predicted reading his son’s palm that in the future he will become a politician, which he is now).

Chase

It’s amazing how each one of us is chasing one or the other things. It can be a woman/man, money, or a new job. Our chase becomes an addiction and, we start living in it most of our life and decision, an action of ours gets directed to this grand chase. Everything else becomes secondary for us, be it our family, parents, or health.

How much of this chase matters?