The whistle of the train could be heard from a distance. The Auto rickshaw sped through the crowded roads, maneuvering between the buses and cars, on the verge of hitting anything that came across its way. It swerved from side to side, the loud blaring Bollywood hit number competing with the honking and the bustling din. The driver craned his neck outside and spat a mouthful of tobacco narrowly missing the sari of a fat lady who was busy adjusting the school bag of her son, and at the same time keeping an eye out for the bus.
“Bhaisaab don’t you worry! Main Hoon Na! “The driver said
completing it with a gesture of his hand doing a semi-circle.
Rajveer was tense. He shifted uncomfortably in the backseat
of the Auto Rickshaw partly due to the driver’s antics, and partly because he
did not want to miss his train. He had managed to book the tickets at the last
moment and was lucky to get a confirmed berth. His meeting with the client at
Kolkata was scheduled for the next day. His arrangements were bound by timelines
and he inevitably had to reach his destination tomorrow. Travelling by air was
the best option but he had failed to avail the tickets all credits to his
family travel agent.
“Sirji, without fail I will get you the tickets” was what he
had promised a couple of days back. Rajveer had been extremely busy preparing
the presentations and slides which were to be delivered to the client. He had
assumed his agent would work his charm and get him the required deal. A day
before he was scheduled to leave, the agent informed him that unfortunately due
to the tourist season in full swing there were no flight tickets available, but
he had managed to get a berth by train. With no options left he was compelled
to delay his travel and loose precious hours.
The Auto Rickshaw screeched in front of Paharganj Railway
Station. If one were to get an idea as to why India is ranked among the most
populous countries in the world, one had to visit public places. They were
always teeming with people stamping and elbowing to make their way forward. It
seemed like the gushing waters of a dam which flowed incessantly. Rajveer
jumped out of the Auto and tugged at his luggage stacked at the back.
“Main hoon Na!” the driver smiled and gestured Rajveer to
step aside. He pulled at the suitcase which seemed to have found its cozy spot.
A couple of tugs and the handle gave away.
“Bhaisaab nowadays these companies are worthless. Gone are
the days of the VIP’s and the Aristocrat suitcases. You could stack a
corpse inside one of them and they would never give up on you. Look at these
products nowadays…tch...tch…tch!
Rajveer just looked at him too angry to even comment. He
made one last effort and pulled the suitcase out. He whipped out his wallet and
paid the driver.
“Have a safe journey” the driver said and shot a mouthful of
tobacco missing his shoes by inches.
He grabbed the handle by the side of the suitcase and
dragged it as fast as he could. He still had to get through security check,
look at the display counter on the location of his scheduled departure, find
his coach and board it. He had approximately five minutes to do all of this!
He heaved a huge sigh of relief sitting on his berth. He had
successfully managed to reach the train on time. There were other passengers
who were queued searching for their seats. A burly guy managed to step on his
feet and stay on it for a few seconds. He yelped in pain but the whistle of the
train stifled his screech.
“I am sorry” the guy turned and exclaimed and at that exact
moment the train lurched forward. He fell on Rajveer’s lap. It felt like a sack
of potatoes had fallen on him.
“It’s okay. Have you found your seat?”
“Seems to be above yours where you are sitting”
“So better make yourself comfortable”
The train moved out of the station and started gathering
speed. The passengers were slowly settling down. Rajveer looked out of the
window and prayed that he reached on time. If for any reasons he missed this
meeting, he would be seeing his next promotion and next appraisal blowing up in
smoke. He was determined in clinching this deal. He remembered the days when he
was a laid back kid, born and bought up in Jharsa, a quaint little village in
Haryana. He had grown up milking buffaloes and serving Hookahs to his elders. His
was a patriarchal family which believed and adhered to strict customs and
culture. His ambition at that point of time was to become a wrestler. The sport
was in his lineage with his Great Grandfather, and his Father both established
wrestlers having won medals and accolades for the country. He spent most of his
time bunking school and practicing in the village “Akhara”. His grades at
school were provided as a compliment to his parentage, since the family had made
its country proud. His perspective changed one day when a British woman rode into
the village on her Royal Enfield “Bullet”. She was a regular tourist passing
through on her way to Rajasthan. She had stopped to take some rest
from the heat, right in front of Banyan tree where the Panchayat used to gather.
The oldies with their Hookahs and turbans quizzically looked at her attire and her
demeanour. She defied everything which women in the village stood for. Kids
flocked to her bike mesmerized with the shiny chrome which sparked in the
sunlight.
“Madam where are you going?” he asked innocently.
“Rajasthan and then I don’t know where.” Her accent was
difficult to understand but Rajveer tried to make the most of it
comprehendible.
“You are travelling so far all alone” he had exclaimed with
wide eyes reflecting astonishment.
“Yes. It’s fun you know” she said and smiled.
“Where are you from?”
“I’m from England”
“Did my father provide you any “Lagaan”?” he quizzed
innocently.
She smiled and said “No that was there a long time ago. Now
your father must be prosperous and does not have to follow that culture
anymore”
“Can I come to England with you?”
“Definitely my love, but for that you have to grow up, be
successful and you can surely accompany me there”
Rajveer smiled. He mentally decided that when grew up he
would become rich and successful, and travel to England.
Years passed by.
Urbanization progressed all over the country. The small village of Jharsa was
surrounded by another small township Gurgaon, which with the focal point of
prosperity and development. Towering skyscrapers dotted the skyline, Malls and
Multiplexes mushroomed in every nook and corner. The outlook of the simple folk
changed with the change in the topography. Swanky cars and branded goods
reached every household, people learnt to accept the change and blended
themselves in ever changing and fast paced environment. With Multinational
companies making a beeline to have their setup established there, the entire
effect had a ripple across the neighboring villages and townships. The
infrastructure extended farther across the borders, and New Delhi and its twin
cities of Gurgaon and Noida were christened as National Capital Region. Jharsa
fell right in the middle of this. Though the village still retained its old
rustic charm to some extent but the changes were evident. The villagers learnt
the art of commercializing their assets. Money flowed in from all quarters.
Children were sent to pilantial schools so as to be competitive with the
immigrant population, and the natives who queued for the fat paying lucrative
jobs.
Rajveer grew up through all of this getting a perfect
education, and an attitude to break ahead in this fast paced rat race world. His
ambitions of becoming a famous wrestler took a backseat as his dreams were set
upon relocating abroad, where he wanted to carve a niche for himself. He had
backed a decent job with an organization whose roots were established in
England. Rajveer’s plans were to shine with excellency in front of the
Management, and to take an early transfer overseas. His bosses were satisfied with
his performance and frequently provided him opportunities to showcase his
talent. He had been able to bag
profitable clients for the organization making him one of the most seeked
employees. The client he was to meet in Kolkata was an important one, whom if he
could convince to partner would be his one way ticket to stardom. He was
determined to clinch the deal as this was his trump card.
“Excuse me…I think you are in the wrong seat!” a voice broke
his thoughts.
There was a young pretty woman standing in front of him,
dressed in cargo shorts, and a loose T-Shirt with a Rucksack on her back. She
was holding a ticket and looking alternately at him and the seat number behind
his head.
“Hmm I think you are mistaken Ma’am. This is my seat”
“This is Coach A1, seat number 32 isn’t it?”
“It is indeed, and it is allotted to me”
“I think there is some confusion” she started getting
hysterical.
“Can I have a look at your ticket Ma’am?” Rajveer said
The rest of the passengers seemed to be waiting for the
drama. They were easing into boredom after settling down initially, and the
commotion created seemed to spice up their otherwise planned uneventful journey.
They turned their heads, craned their necks to have a look, and with expectant
eyes awaited the next set of instances to unfold.
Rajveer took the ticket from the girl’s extended hand and
looked at the details. The date and seat number were correct as mentioned but
it was the incorrect train.
He looked up and said” I believe you are on the wrong train”
The colour seemed to leave her face. She grabbed the ticket
back from Rajveer’s hand and scrutinized it.
“Ma’am your ticket is booked for the same date and the
details are correct but you had booked for Sampark Kranti Express and this is
Kalka Mail”
“How can that be possible?” she said in a small voice.
The train had moved out from the Delhi and had traversed a
good amount of distance. The next stop scheduled was Allahabad which was a good
two hours away.
All eyes were waiting in anticipation as to what would the
girl do next. Rajveer kind of felt sorry for her.
“Why don’t you take a seat and we can decide what to do
next” he said looking at the girl, and then at the huge burly guy who was
occupying a major part of the seat.
“Can you give the lady some space?” He addressed him. It
seemed as if Rajveer had asked him to loan his kidneys, he shifted across
reluctantly giving back a nasty look.
“Thank you so much” Rajveer said and adjusted himself
between the girl and Mr. He-Man.
“So now you have a couple of options. You can get down at
Allahabad, wait for few hours and board your scheduled train, or we can see if
we can negotiate with the Ticket Collector and get you a berth on this train
itself. Which one would you like to choose?”
The girl frowned and thought for a moment.
“I think lets speak with the guy in charge on this train and
see what options I have. Since Allahabad is still a couple of hours away I
might as well take my chances” she said
She kept her rucksack on the top berth and settled down.
Rajveer was a bit skeptical of the outcome but was sure it would be sorted, he
would get a long rest, stretch his legs and get a good night’s sleep. He had to
be focused for tomorrow’s meeting.
On the berth across sat an elderly couple. The gentleman
wore a smart tweed jacket, with flannel trousers, a scarf neatly tied and
adjusted between his crisp white shirt collar. He had long white moustache,
twirled at the ends and neatly trimmed. The lady accompanying him wore a chic
white salwar suit, with a khadi shawl wrapped. She had neatly cut short hair
which was a blend of white and black. She was chewing a betel nut and looking
out of the window. Rajveer assumed they were a retired army couple on their way
to either visit their children living in another city, or taking a peaceful
vacation far away from the maddening city life. To their right sat a lady who
was occupied with controlling a child who must have been around five years old.
He was mischievous and was using all his efforts in climbing the outer rung leading to the upper berth. She had disheveled hair, a crumpled sari, weary
eyes, and looked on the verge of exhaustion. She was in the midst of a weak
attempt to dissuade the child from his endeavor, and to come and have his meal.
From the looks both of them were trying their best to succeed in their
prospects. On his left sat the burly guy who must have been around 6 feet 2
inches, weighing approximately 100 kgs, he had a short crew cut hairstyle, a
handle bar moustache, with a thick heavy set jaw. His muscles seemed to be
ripping out and trying to free themselves from the undersized T-Shirt he was
wearing. Must be an enforcer Rajveer wondered. Across on the other side of his
berth sat a newlywed couple. The guy was lanky, wearing a neon-colored shirt and
blue flared denims. He had a hairstyle which could be termed as a cross between
Sanjay Dutt in the early 90’s and Gulshar Grover during the late 90’s. He was
animatedly discussing something his wife, waving and gesturing wildly. The girl
looked on furtively at him, interested and lost in the discussion. She wore
trendy clothes and had a smart aura about herself. Probably one of the
mismatched couples seen quite often nowadays. On the berth above them roared a
tiger. He was wearing a lungi with a white
short sleeved shirt and was snoring away to glory, the sound of his wheezing
and whistling trying to harmonize in tandem with the chugging of the rail
wheels.
Rajveer let out a sigh and waited for the Ticket Collector
to arrive. He desperately wanted to stretch and relax but wanted
to sort out the berth issue first.
The girl had taken out a paperback and got immersed in
it.
“So where are you backpacking to?” Rajveer asked
She looked up at him wondering whether she should answer the
question and start a conversation or get back to her novel.
“Kolkata”
“Oh so you are a bong?”
“Yes”
She waited for a couple of seconds more expecting more questions.
With none asked she resumed her attention to the book.
Rajveer wanted to keep himself occupied till the official
came. He was exhausted from his fiasco before boarding the train and was
feeling sleepy. He took out his I-Pod and plugged it into his ears. Bryan Adams
flowed through his veins and he closed his eyes and mentally started jotting
down the plan for his scheduled meeting. This was his one way ticket to
stardom, his dreams and aspirations, everything he had meticulously planned. He
knew he was destined for bigger things in life. His journey from his
humble beginning at the village Chopal to the glitzy corporate life had been
a struggle with traditions and ethics. He was ready to master success at any
costs.
“Tickets please” the voice broke through his thoughts. He
opened his eyes to find a short, middle aged guy dressed in a black coat, white
trousers and shirt, a black cap on his head with a long sheet of paper in one
hand and a pen in another. He wore spectacles which were perched on the bridge
of his nose and with edgy eyes he looked from one passenger to another. He started
off from the lady with the kid, who was nervously rummaging about in her purse.
She triumphantly held up a crumpled piece of paper and handed it over to the
Collector. He looked at the ticket, then at her, sighed and remarked
“It’s a wonder this did not get lost “
The accusation registered on her with a blank expression.
She turned her attention back to the child who was trying to grab the cap on the
Collector’s head.
“Next please “the collector said holding the cap back with
one hand and adjusting the sheets with another.
The elderly couple passed their tickets to him.
“Are you traveling on a vacation? Do tell me about some
interesting destinations. I would love to avail my Yearly Travel Allowance and
visit some of them. As it is half of my life is spent on trains and the other
half I would like to make good utilization of “he beamed at them.
The elderly gentleman smiled at him and caressed his
moustache “We are actually travelling abroad. We are on our way to pick another
good friend of ours accompanied by his wife. We are going to Paris”
The Collector sighed “My wife does not want to budge out of
Dhanbad and here we are talking about Paris. Maybe I will have to remarry to
fulfill that desire” he winked.
“So who do we have here? Brother and sister?” he turned around
and addressed Rajveer and the girl. They looked at each other and then at the
collector indignantly.
“Definitely not…..by the way we have a problem here and have
been waiting for you to sort out the issue” Rajveer said.
“And how may I assist?” The collector adjusted the
spectacles on the bridge of his nose.
“This lady here has the ticket for Sampark Kranti Express
and she has boarded Kalka Mail by mistake. Now either she will have to deboard
at Allahabad and wait for her train, or you can make some arrangements and find
her a berth on this train itself”
“And your good name Ma’am?” the Collectors big round eyes
shifted between Rajveer and her over the rim of his spectacles.
“Nilanjana Bose”
“So let’s see what have we got here” he scanned the list in
his hand running a pen down the sheet “It seems we do not have any berth which
can be allotted to you. Hmmmm….Allahabad…Kanpur….Mughal Sarai…seems packed Ma’am.
No vacancies!”
“But Sir it is urgent for me to reach Kolkata early. I have
a concert scheduled to happen tomorrow and need to reach on time”
“What kind of concert? Rock Show !” The Collector guffawed
holding his belly.
“I am a trained classical singer” Nilanjana glared at him.
“That’s marvelous. Nowadays youngsters, especially your
generation are more into the funky kind of music, Honey Singh etc.…Sur, Taal is
Greek to them. Good to come across someone who values the culture and tradition”
he said.
Even Rajveer was astonished. She did not look the part of a
classical singer with her attire and attitude.
“Okay, coming back to the point, there is nothing which can
be done. Ma’am please deboard the train at Allahabad and wait for your
scheduled journey” he declared and folded his sheets and shuffled to move
ahead.
Nilanjana had a devastated expression on her face. She sat
down holding her head in her hands.
“Sirji something can surely be done” Rajveer lightly touched
the shoulder of the Collector.
“Kuch nahin ho sakta mere Bhai…..”
“Please…there has to be some jugaad” Rajveer put his hand to
his pocket and pulled out his wallet.
He looked at Rajveer, and to the wallet, and back at Rajveer
with those big round eyes over the spectacles.
Rajveer was not sure whether he would slap him for trying to bribe him
or hand him over to the Police.
“There is nothing I can do unless you can do something about
it”
Rajveer was perplexed.
“You can give her your berth and maybe find a berth for
yourself later on” he said.
The others stopped whatever they were doing
and looked up at him. He was the center of focus with all eyes trained on him
and expressions waiting in anticipation. Nilanjana too looked
up at him with expectant eyes which had watered, hoping for a miracle to
happen, and him to bail her out of the situation.
“Ok fine” he said reluctantly.
“Good” the Collector said and made the changes in his sheet
and Nilanjana’s ticket “Problem solved”
He flashed one last smile and trudged along. He had gotten a
few steps when he stopped and beckoned Rajveer.
“Look the staff will change at Mughal Sarai. I will inform the
next guy to provide you a berth for the night. Just show him the green paper
which you were offering me. You were a fool to offer it to me in front of
everyone. But anyways I cannot do the changes now. But not to worry. Main Hoon
Naa”
Rajveer gave him a wry smile.
He went back to his
berth and found Nilanjana settling down with her belongings. She flashed him a
smile and said, “Hey thanks for the favor. You would not know how much this
means to me. You can sit here in the meantime. By the time we cross Mughal
Sarai I am sure something will work out”
Rajveer sat down between her and the burly guy.
“That was a good thing to do, to help this girl in trouble”
he said and punched him lightly on the shoulder.
He did have a friendly smile which Rajveer wondered was
probably used rarely.
The elderly couple
gave him a “Thumbs Up” gesture in appreciation.
The Lady with the Kid nodded her head and said “Good” and focused
her attention back to the child who was trying to throw an apple at someone in
the other berth.
The young married couple nodded their heads collectively and
said” That is a rare gesture nowadays. You can have some home-cooked paranthas if
you want”
The guy with the lungi on top ceased to snore momentarily
conveying his part of the appreciation.
Rajveer just sighed. He did not want to lose his focus for the
next day’s agenda. He had to secure a berth before sundown and get the required
amount of sleep for his senses to be sharp for the following day.
“You don’t look like a trained classical dancer” Rajveer
said to Nilanjana.
She wore a friendlier expression now “I know. I have been
told that numerous times by a lot of people. But the art has been passed down
generations in my family. My Grandfather, my mother all have been famous
dancers. I am carrying on the legacy. I have a concert tomorrow which would be
attended by the famous Birju Maharaj, if he likes the performance he will make
me his pupil. It’s all I have dreamt about from childhood, to become a famous
dancer and flourish the art in other countries and far distant lands “her eyes
were lost across the barren landscape outside the window.
“That surely sounds interesting”
“You are travelling to Kolkata. Are you on a business trip?
If you are available why don’t you come over and see my performance?”
“I am on a business trip but am not sure if I might be able to
wiggle out time from the busy schedule. But would love to watch the performance”
“The concert is at Nandan Theatre. I will WhatsApp you the
address. It’s tomorrow at 7:00pm. You can mention at the registration counter
you are a friend of mine. I am supposed to provide them a list of my friends and
relatives who would be there. I will include your name…..which I don’t know
till now! My savior?” she smiled
“Rajveer….Rajveer Hooda nice meeting you Nilanjana Bose”
To Be Continued.................................
To Be Continued.................................

Excellent narration!
ReplyDeleteI have enjoyed reading it and am curious to know what happens in the story further!
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteGood job Mr Naidu, wish to know what happens next
ReplyDelete