"Ai birru...The voice behind him was rough, guttural. As he turned to look back, a gentle nudge in the ribs egged him on. Then, exasperation writ clearly on his face, the man said, " Utarne ka hai k nai. Train akkha dinnaj idhar nai rukne wala kya ?" As he hurriedly hopped off, the crowd in front of him surged ahead, almost pushing him back into the train, from which he had alighted. A timely yank from his bete noir, turned guardian saved him from that fate. "Kya Sir," the man chided, "Ye Bambai hai. Sub ko ghai rehta hai na, gutter main jitna keera nai, utna log rehta hai train main. " He laughed at his own wit. " Ok sir ? Bye, bye." So saying the man took off, blending in with the crowds. He stood getting his bearings. He was on Bandra station. Somewhere close by was his aunts' home.
Emerging from the station, he stood stock still. All around him was the stench of humanity in its various forms. A dog lay, asleep. Its body a muddy brown, from its foray into a pile of garbage seemingly extracted from a drain nearby, and left to rot. Beggars and vagrants, teemed all over the place, some asleep, some eyeing the crowds hurtling by. From fruits to underwear, caps to street food, everything was being pedalled in the narrow lane leading towards the main road. Drawing a deep breath, he moved as fast as he could towards the taxi stand. The first two cabbies, refused to ply by the meter. The third was ingratiatingly eager to have him. He smiled to himself as he pictured in his mind the crocodile he had seen in the zoo at Cologne. The one with it's mouth wide open. Almost hypnotising you to go close. He decided to walk it. Squaring his shoulders, holding tightly onto his haversack, he spent a minute, perusing the map of the city that he carried with him.
The small cry came from behind him. he turned around astounded to see nothing behind him, except for a garbage tin. Again the cry came. Persistant, breathless. To his horror he realised it was coming from the bin. Aghast, he hurried to it and quelling the nausea rising in his throat, he peered in. A small arm flailed out from beneath the unspeakably dirty refuge within. Furiously pushing it all aside, he plunged his hand in, even as the cry resounded again. Digging his hand in deeper, he first felt, then pulled out the small wisp of humanity, struggling to breathe. In wonderment, he looked at it. It was a girl. A tiny thing, abandoned to its fate. Struggling to control his tears, he almost tenderly wiped her wee body with his shirt. As fascinated as a father holding his newborn fot the first time, he looked down at her. Her bright eyes, huge, almost grey with the trauma she must have undergone, stared back dazedly at him. For a second, there were only two people in the world. Him and her.
" Apney India main aisaj hai, sirji. Jo nahi chahiye woh kachre main phenk dene ka." The wise words came from one of the crowd that had gathered around him.
It hit him hard. The pathos of his rescue. The tears flowed freely from his eyes, as he carried the child to the nearest hospital. Indeed, this India was alien to him. Having returned after a gap of nearly twenty years to his birth place, he realised that he could never belong here. He had been alienated. Forever.
Emerging from the station, he stood stock still. All around him was the stench of humanity in its various forms. A dog lay, asleep. Its body a muddy brown, from its foray into a pile of garbage seemingly extracted from a drain nearby, and left to rot. Beggars and vagrants, teemed all over the place, some asleep, some eyeing the crowds hurtling by. From fruits to underwear, caps to street food, everything was being pedalled in the narrow lane leading towards the main road. Drawing a deep breath, he moved as fast as he could towards the taxi stand. The first two cabbies, refused to ply by the meter. The third was ingratiatingly eager to have him. He smiled to himself as he pictured in his mind the crocodile he had seen in the zoo at Cologne. The one with it's mouth wide open. Almost hypnotising you to go close. He decided to walk it. Squaring his shoulders, holding tightly onto his haversack, he spent a minute, perusing the map of the city that he carried with him.
The small cry came from behind him. he turned around astounded to see nothing behind him, except for a garbage tin. Again the cry came. Persistant, breathless. To his horror he realised it was coming from the bin. Aghast, he hurried to it and quelling the nausea rising in his throat, he peered in. A small arm flailed out from beneath the unspeakably dirty refuge within. Furiously pushing it all aside, he plunged his hand in, even as the cry resounded again. Digging his hand in deeper, he first felt, then pulled out the small wisp of humanity, struggling to breathe. In wonderment, he looked at it. It was a girl. A tiny thing, abandoned to its fate. Struggling to control his tears, he almost tenderly wiped her wee body with his shirt. As fascinated as a father holding his newborn fot the first time, he looked down at her. Her bright eyes, huge, almost grey with the trauma she must have undergone, stared back dazedly at him. For a second, there were only two people in the world. Him and her.
" Apney India main aisaj hai, sirji. Jo nahi chahiye woh kachre main phenk dene ka." The wise words came from one of the crowd that had gathered around him.
It hit him hard. The pathos of his rescue. The tears flowed freely from his eyes, as he carried the child to the nearest hospital. Indeed, this India was alien to him. Having returned after a gap of nearly twenty years to his birth place, he realised that he could never belong here. He had been alienated. Forever.
Amazingly vivid in the beginning,a nd brilliantly turned to the fate at the end..
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