It is raining heavily here.
Had it been in Agra and 10 years back, in such conditions in the Hindu calender month of 'Shravan' or 'Saawan' we would travel to Mathura, some beautiful song playing in the car, to see some of the temples, to roam around in those “Kunj Galis”, to eat some of the best prepared milk sweets along with the Samosas, then to get geared to start for Vrindavan, visit the temples there, have lunch under some tree, watch monkeys play around you, the elder ones waiting patiently for their share of food while the impatient younger ones unable to resist the aroma would sit on your lap and eat from your hand, they are gods and we would all love that, then couple of people would prefer to lie down under the tree for a nap while some would prefer the car seats, papa would walk down some alley to meet some of his old friend, one need not walk more than a few steps to reach the destination in a 2 sq km town, two kids- one boy wearing a loose knickers and un-tucked shirt and one girl wearing a frock with the torn lower frill touching the ground- will run down the road from that house holding a tray each with glasses of lemon water, they would communicate in a threatening tone how upset their grandmother/ mother is that you are sitting in a temple complex and not in their drawing room, by then papa would come with his friend, his face telling all that he has been given a nice scolding by his bhabhi, his friend would explain that he would not get his dinner if we would not go to his house, we would all talk and happily walk to his home, we would happily observe papa being scolded by his bhabhi like a small boy ‘lallu bahut bada ho gaya hai jo ghar nahin aayega’ and see him stand with his head held down, you know after your grandparents were not there the distant bhabhis had taken care of your then small papa as mother, and part of the ritual of a Vrindavan visit is that papa wants to get scolded by his senior friends because he knows the value of having elders to scold you, because they will not always be there, and these visits and getting scolded are counter intuitive and are also meant to assure the elder people that we are there and they need not worry, that the small orphan boy whom they helped grow up has his children grown up and they have got into the biggest jobs of this country, all the hard work of the friends and seniors has paid rich dividend, the dog in the house would have done all the tricks by then to flatter you, rolling on the ground, trying to catch his tail and running away with one of the shoes just to tell you that he is happy that you are there and he wants to play with you, grown up dogs are very similar to grown up men, they are very much like boys, they will never grow up and would always be like the best pal they were as a pup, he would take you to meet his best friend- the old cow standing in one corner of that house and she has a beautiful name too, then two three or four families would walk towards the ‘Banke Bihari Ji’ wishing every one along the road ‘Radhe Radhe’ and in the next hour or so everyone would be lost with Krishna in one of the most awakened temple, then the shopping spree would start, from the latest framed pictures from ISKON of the child Krishna or the Radha Krishna, of the smallest pocket copy of Hanuman Chalisa, or a new publication from Motilal Banarasi das on palmistry, and after the farewell we would start back, and time permitting one could stop at some old bawdi, or at the Siva temple remains on the back of Yamuna or at Sikandra- Akbar’s Mausoleum, you would pray that the railway crossing should be down and the car gets to stop at the road side pakori shop there- this shop is more than two hundred year shop with no brick structure, just a small shop on the road side which prepares what could be the cleanest, freshest and purest pakori- just amazing , and finally we would be back home, each excited by his day’s purchases and they never disappointed.
I wonder how much I have lost in last ten years, the insecurity and hard work that one generation puts in earning an honest living transmits to the next one. We went for making what was the most easily earned thing on earth- MONEY. What we seemed to have lost in the bargain are much more valuable- more difficult to find and acquire- true friends, true relationships, trust, faith, honesty, time and values- on which a happy life could easily be build.
There could be no balancing act, atleast I failed: ‘Kabhi kisi ko mukkammal jahaan nahin milta’.
Or as I always tell myself, I can take a lot of U-turns successfully and make up for the lost. One day, I will be back in my own world.
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