Day is Friday, the 25th of Jan '08. Everybody is in haste, packing bags, preparing the breakfast, getting ready... today we are leaving for Puttaparthi, visit to our very own Sai baba's birth place, hoping to get a glimpse of him, a "Darshan". So, all set, we get into the auto (oh my! the dreadful auto), to reach the boarding station, Yashwanthpur. Aunties and uncles are yet to come when we reach there, so we grasp the opportunity and light a cigarette. They arrive after the butt had been severely crushed below one of our shoes. We board with a happy feeling, the elders with a happy feeling about getting a "Darshan", younger ones are always happy as long as their demands are fulfilled, and for me, as I already told, I'm in the picnic-mode, so can't be less happier. :)
The boggies are almost empty, a few people here and there. We occupy one of the compartments, aunties starts their own chit-chats, uncles have their own agenda to discuss, and I'm too happy to spend more of my picnic-days travelling, occationally clicking pictures from the window, of whatever I felt interesting.
One of the interesting things
The train had hardly covered a distance of 2 hours, a shrill voice out-sounds the constant sound of the locomotive and intrudes my imagination, my imagination of the place, my imagination of seeing Sai Baba in real person, my imagination of another part of my picnic-days. Shortly after this alien sound intruded, I became aware of the fact that this sound wasn't alone, there was a harmonium accompanying it. Now the source of the sound appeared, a boy of 13 to 14 years of age, wearing a blue chequered shirt and black half-pants, a harmonium slung across his neck. Think of any of Amitabh's movie of 70s and 80s and think of Amitabh's childhood character, whose mother dies of a disease, or whose father is killed by the goons, or who has no parents but still has his younger siblings to look after. Think of that character, and you can get the idea how how this boy must be. Otherwise see this picture.
The singer
Now he starts singing, my uncle wants him to sing the popular hindi songs, and this boy has no option but to oblige, he starts belting the hindi numbers in a bit awkward accent to make my uncles happy, accompanying him in this quest is his harmonium, equally shrill, but much more melodious. May be he had learnt these hindi songs with a great pain, may be he didn't have the access to the basic ameneties for listening the songs and grasp each and every bit of the lyrics, so he was singing at his own pace, and I was finding the lyrical error at my own pace though I didn't let anybody know that I was observing him(I find lyrical-error very quickly, because I have a fairly good lyrics memorizing mechanism, this is one of the very few good properties my brain possesses). Had he been in some singing contest like Indian Idol, Javed Akhtar would have thrown his chappal at him. Pity he doesn't own a tape-recorder or a radio, I thought. I'm sure he doesn't own one. But my uncle was no less than Annu Malik in criticizing and passing the comments. Yet I'm sure it didn't make any difference to him, for two reasons. One, he hardly knew hindi and that too my uncle's hindi..., forget it. Two, may be he's used to it, so I didn't see any change in his expression as per the comments. Now my uncles started enjoying his songs so they sing along one or two of the songs. I thought what if this fellow had been in some reality singing competition, even though he wouldn't have won(would lose due to lack of votes), I'm sure he would have learnt a lot of singing technics. So after few more anti-flawless songs, he bids them goodbye grabbing everything that my uncles gave him, comes to our compartment, where I'm seated near window, I put my hand in my right pocket (that's where I keep all my change, left pocket will always have my celfon in it :) ) pull out a 5 rupee coin, and place my hand just above his, ready to release it(the coin), but all of a sudden his hand placed just below mine, comes up, and cuts short the 5 rupee coin's journey, snatching it from my hand. He leaves compartment and us, and gets down in one of the stations, I felt one of our fellow travellers boarding down. I sympathized his agony, that's the only thing I could do. Thought his life too is not different than the '70s '80s Amitabh's childhood character. But the future? Will he be a Bijay Dinanath Chauhan? Will he become a Don? God knows...
Our journey resumes normally, as all the normal journey should, but I've this strange thinking, what will become of him? what? what?
Finally at 1.30 PM, we arrive at Sri Satya Prasanthi Nagara(did I get the name correct?), we get down from the train, get into a bus which we hire for 100 bucks. I had neither seen a conductor of his age, or his rage, nor had I seen a passenger like that, must be of around 40 to 50 years of age, with yellowish/reddish teeth, the remains of just finished paan all over her teeth and corners of her lips. Everytime the bus stopped to pick or drop the passenger(s), they quarrelled, vehemently, may be they bombarded each other with some "your mothers and your sisters" kind of speeches, and they quarrelled until another drop/pick-up point was reached. So it's was a horrible experience of Puttaparthy at the first encounter, but I's sure of things becoming more calm and soothing after we get down, after all this is Sai baba's place. During the ride, one I had feeling of grabbing that boy and throwing him out of the bus window. Oh my my, did I tell you why they were quarrelling? They were quarrelling because the lady with paan had got into bus with two big plastic bags, and the boy wanted a fare for those plastic bags too, paan lady wasn't complying, so the boy was trying to get rid of her in every stop, was trying to get her down, by sometimes pulling her, sometimes her plastic bags. And everytime, she fired him with dangerous words, I didn't understand the language, but the expression in her face clearly showed what it was....
At last reached, Puttaparthy, got down the bus, felt very tired and hungry, but was happy that finally we reached the destination, and I didn't think of the singer met back in train, didn't think of the quarrelling duo of the bus, only thing I thought that time was.... ah ! the food and a bed to rest...
