Down the Memory Lane

Human body is a marvel. What is even more amazing is the ability of the brain to bring back memories. In fact, “memory” in itself is no less than a miracle.

I managed to scribble into my journal yesterday after a very long hiatus. I had decided to write something in it everyday. It could be something as trivial as eating a banana. But, I am going to write about it. Why I am mentioning this here is to arrive at the point as to why I have begun this piece describing the marvel of the human body.

The moment I sat to write there was a deluge of thoughts which I had saved to write about ‘later’ and which did not happen. I did not manage to write about them this morning as I was very sleepy. If you are still wondering what I mean, I would like to clarify that it was around 12:30am when I put pen to paper ‘this morning’.

As I sat to write, I immediately turned back time and traveled some Sundays back and reached the temple at Andheri. I was visiting it with my parents and was waiting for our cousins to arrive. Being a Sunday and an auspicious day (I say auspicious because there were a lot of people and pujas happening at the different corners) there were a lot more people than you often find on a lazy Sunday morning. We were sitting on the marble seating provided within the premises. Just then a very old man walked towards us. His age was wavering in this gait. He was trying to find a place to sit. I desperately wanted to help him find a seat, but unfortunately we were standing. Just then a gentleman got up and offered him a seat which he happily accepted. As he sat, he glanced towards me. I was staring at him completely lost. There was something about his face that grasped my attention and held my gaze. It was an aura that only old age could gift you. The moment he saw me he lifted his hands, brought them together and gestured a “Namaste.” I smile at him and raised my hands to reciprocate, but immediately returned to my senses and stopped them halfway while checking out if someone was watching me. I must confess that I felt embarrassed to reciprocate with a namaste.

Namaste is an Indian way of greeting people. In the humbleness of the gesture lies its beauty. It is something every other person on the surface of this earth takes pride in doing except we Indians. The incident signaled the pace at which we are loosing our rich cultural and traditional wealth. We some how seem to have developed a case of myopia and cannot see the true worth our values and beliefs -sad, but true.

The other incident that had me really shattered me from right within is what happened one night while traveling to meet a friend for dinner. I was supposed to meet a friend for dinner. We generally meet-up after office and discuss about work, challenges, people and a book I am planning to work on.

I boarded the train, and a couple of stations later three urchins boarded my compartment. First one was the eldest of the lot, not more than seven to eight years, who was carrying a tiny infant in her arms. Probably, her younger sister? Following her was a tiny, frail boy was also younger to her. He must be her brother. The eldest girl ordered him to beg for coins before the passengers, while she moved ahead to the other section of the compartment.

That boy had caught my attention because of his frail & tiny frame and the innocence in his eyes. I was watching him approach every passenger and get turned down with, either, a rude gesture, an indignant look or an oblivion expression.

After almost being refused by everyone, he reached my seat and bent down near my feet. I must admit that, I too was not inclined to pay him anything. His innocence till that time had just knocked the doors of my heart, but could not force me to open the door. I watched him as he lay there head down near my feet. Sometime passed, but he did not raise his head. The long pause was beginning to get a little discomforting. As he lay there, I could see a one rupee coin peep out of his clenched fist and look towards me with a naughty sparkle. As I watched him, a thought crossed my mind that, this evening I would spend over half a grand over booze and food -quite some amount that could save him quite some trouble of spreading his hands. I began to feel lucky and silently thank the almighty.

Gradually, the very thought of eating out began to feel repulsive as I stared at his delicate and soiled frame. Any extra luxury looked sinful. Everything good about my life seemed impious. I began to descend in the tunnel of sin; I was awakened by a loud, screeching voice. As I returned back I realized it was the elder sister calling out to this boy. He got up rubbing his sleepy eyes. He had fallen asleep as he lay there waiting for the doors of my heart to open. Unfortunately it didn’t.

I alighted at the next station, and began walking towards my destination discarding all the heavy baggages of guilt my conscience had just packed some time ago. Life just went on as it always does.

The only things that remained from those two days are their memories that stayed back and haunt me when I revisit them. They still set me thinking afresh, and take me to another world where there are only questions and very few answers, or rather no answers at all.