Central Railway Station, Delhi.
I’m waiting for my friends to arrive. It’s around 6 in the evening. Days are short during winter, and lights are well and truly on. I’m with my cup of tea, on a bench, in front of a chai stall. A brewing cup of tea often provides the much-needed solace on a cold wintry evening.
I sit next to a gentleman, with whom I later happen to strike up a conversation; I was in fact a bit hesitant to start one, but then it just happened. He seemed unfazed by the cold wind and undisturbed by the hustle and bustle that one would associate with any major railway station across India.
I come to know that he had reached Delhi by 11 in the morning after having left Bangalore two days ago by train. He is now waiting for his train which is to arrive at 11:30 in the night to reach Guwahati - his home town - in a couple of days’ time. He works for a battery processing company in Bangalore. Once a daily wage labourer, he says, now he is comparatively better placed than before.
As I learn that he has worked in other parts of the country too, I’m now keen to know how different or better Bangalore is. So, I ask him a simple question, “Bangalore kaisa he (How is Bangalore)”? He pauses for a while and then replies, “Hum teek he tho sub kuch teek he. Jab hum teek nahi thub kuch teek nhi (As long as we are good everything else is good, when we aren’t everything around us is no different)”. I’m taken aback by the maturity and wisdom of his reply as his words slowly sink in.
We whinge a lot. Don’t we? We cry and complain. We are easily dissatisfied; we are easily broken. We are impatient. We put up weird faces to the silliest of things. We are consumed by the negativity around us. To many, positivity, comes by effort. Whereas, my friend Tappan Saha, is a picture of calmness and positivity. Maturity breeds positivity, I suppose - not always, but in his case, I think it has. He talks a lot of sense. And, he is still very young.
He had travelled for two days, and has two more days of travel left in him. He is alone. But he doesn’t look tired. Surprisingly, he looks fresh. In the entire 60 minutes or so that we converse, he hardly complains of anything, hardly sounds negative. He speaks of his hardship, difficulties of staying so far away from home but not once does he whinge or regret a thing. It seems, he has kept his chin up to the adversities of life.
He smiles.
I feel refreshed. We often search for inspiration. As I leave, I realise, I just met one.
I’m glad I happened to meet Tappan Saha.
I’m waiting at the Railway Station because on the 3rd day of our stay in Delhi, I thought I’d be better served by watching a day of Test cricket rather than going around Delhi as my friends had planned to.
So, I had left for Feroz Shah Kotla in the morning.
Test cricket is not just about what goes on in the field. It is also about the entire space it surrounds.
At the stands, as some are having their lunch, some are busy with their phones. Some have gone asleep, while some are just about making their way in. While an isolated couple is having a lighter moment, a guy sitting alone in a faraway seat, is consumed by his book. An old lady is all smiles and very keen on the proceedings even when very few seem to be bothered as Sri Lanka saunter its way forward deep into the day without much loss.
The day goes on. Everyone is living his or her own moment. Test cricket provides you with that space. It allows you to be yourself.
A wicket falls after a long wait. Then another one falls. Then another. Suddenly Lankans are in a hurry to leave. The crowd is back on its feet. The mobiles are locked, the book is closed and none are asleep. The chants and cheers are on. Most of them are now screaming.
There is now life back in cricket. There always was, just that we didn’t see it that way.
We were at Agra, the previous day.
You know something special is about to happen. A beautiful gift is about to be opened up for you. You know its worth. You are now only waiting for it to happen; waiting for that moment of tryst. The moment has come to open your mind, heart and soul to The Taj Mahal.
When you open yourself to the Taj, you embrace its greatness, consume its power and fall in love for what it is. It’s a wonder, no doubt.
The Taj Mahal is Shah Jahan’s gift, not only to Mumtaz but to each one of us.
Prior to Agra, we visited Mathura - Lord Krishna’s birth place.
There’s an old Krishna Temple, there’s a new temple and then there is a mosque built by Aurangzeb. It is said that, Aurangzeb broke through the walls of the old temple and built a mosque to dwarf the temple. We are told, in reply to this, the taller new temple was built, to dwarf the mosque.
I wonder, do we need to dwarf each other to prove our so-called greatness ? Are we not stooping to new lows by doing so ?
Our guide at Mathura is a bundle of energy. He is happy with the man at the helm. He believes the bad times are behind and good times lie ahead. He affirms, Yogi Adityanath is the right man at the right place.
The less said about Brindavan the better. The pathway that leads us to Brindavan is so pathetic and bad that you are hardly left with any hope of seeing anything better. The money hungry priests only make it still worse. Well, the place has its own relevance and set of beliefs but tidiness is not one of them.
After our 3-day stint at Delhi, we left for Dharmasala via Pathankot.
Miles away from Delhi, Dharmasala sits in a calm and beautiful place. The air was clean and Dharmasala - green. The mind was refreshed.
The next morning, we head to Triund, guided by two jawans, Ravi and Pawan, from the Indian Army, thanks to our own friend, Captain Kishan, who joined us. The trek is long and hard. It is wonderful though.
For me, the interactions, first with Ravi and then with the South Korean solo traveller, Minwoo, whom I happened to meet along the way up, was sort of an education in itself, where in I got to understand the different perceptions about life and different approaches towards it.
For Ravi, going all the way up to Triund, was more of a routine exercise whereas for Minwoo and all of us it was an expedition. It was nice to have their company, for it is always nice to learn new things from new persons that we happen to speak to along the way.
We take our own sweet time to reach the top, but importantly, we all make it. We relax, have some fun, and have a cup of tea. The view from the top is breathtaking and worth all the pain.
Next morning, we head to Bir, to paraglide. Paragliding is an entirely new and exciting experience. The initial butterflies in the stomach quickly subside and make way for fun and joy. We are held so high up in the air for so long that it felt like time stood still all the while.
From Bir, all the way to Amritsar. The Golden Temple.
Surrounded by water, the shining temple at night, is a sight to behold. The Sikhs are passionate people. Their loud prayers reverberate through the walls of the temple. You can sense it in the air. You can feel it on the walls.
The next morning, we hire autos for the whole day. I sit next to our auto driver, Sanjeev Shingari, for most part of the journey. As we go along, we see the kilo meters-long bus bays in Amritsar on which hardly a couple of buses run on a daily basis, and that too empty! Sanjeev says, the former CM Prakash Singh Badal and his party made piles of money from this wasteful 500Cr project, which ironically is of no use today.
We speak a lot. He is kind enough to respond to my queries. He says, it is his duty to keep his customers happy. He also mentions the references and repeat customers he gets from doing so. He is adding the human element to his business.
In the afternoon, we head to Wagah border, well in fact, it is the Attari border. Wagah is a village in Pakistan, 2km from the Indian border.
To be honest, I didn’t find the experience all that great. The retreat ceremony, as it is called, leaves room for little celebration. It leaves us with more questions than answers. It seems like the rituals performed over there are overridden by the antics and the patriotism driven drama.
Why am I forced to arouse my patriotism? Why am I asked to prove my patriotic feelings? It is quite embarrassing when someone asks you to shout slogans. Why should I celebrate humiliation and derision directed at the people on the other side of the border? What are we to make of it and what is it that we gain from it? Should patriotism be marketed in the manner it is ? I don’t think it is to create any sort of awareness but even if it is, then, it is not the right way of doing it.
I’m reminded of an article I read sometime back. If you would like to read, here it is below. http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/lead/patriot-games-at-attari-wagah/article19530198.ece
As we return from the border, Sanjeev goes on to show me a pic of his small daughter and wife, who are waiting for him to come home as the sun sets. He has ticked one more day in his life, I’ve ticked one too. It is not always about ticking, it is about the marks we leave, the paths we cross, and the memories we create.
From Amritsar, we return to Delhi. We round off our trip with a visit to the ever-crowded Sarojini market. We shop, we chat, we eat. We leave.
We end it there - our fruitful and joy-filled, one week trip to the Northern part of India.
