Be Global & Warm Global

Hello friends,

Sorry for not completing the last blog about my mesmerizing experience of GOA. I would like to start afresh after such a long time with some newer experiences of life...This is just a beginning.

It was hot day outside, and mom packed one more sweater in my bag in spite of my frequent refusal. The luggage was getting heavier and heavier as my departure time was coming closer. Although I had the habit of carrying a lot of stuffs whenever I travel to somewhere, but this time it was special as for the first time, someone from the family was going to foreign from the family.  My mom had happily donated some new cloths to the astrologer who once predicted my future in my childhood. He envisaged that one day I would marry two girls; I would have total six children; and I would go to foreign. It was the omen of brighter future for me as well as my mother. I had carried two big bags all the way from Bangalore to Bihar adding whatever small stuffs I could remember. This was the first time when I was travelling with so much of luggage. It felt, for the first time, like I had become a rich guy. I had silently counted in the sleeper coach on the way to my home, "how many of these people would have ever travelled across to the other corner of the planet! And my lips were widened with a smile of achievement”. Although I generally don't like to be identified in trains and if someone used to ask me what I do, I used to lie. But this time I proudly disclosed my future plan to the nearby passenger who somehow had a distant dream of going to Switzerland. The truth was that I could not hide my emotions as fear and excitement was building around my euro trip. How do people live there? I had always doubted the development of these so called developed countries. Do their villages look different from ours? My uncle had a very basic doubt. He never believed their claim that no one pees outside in those countries as he has the big addiction of urinating every hour. My friends already had put their earnest desire on me. For them Europe was a place of beauties, beauty meaning real beauties. Every boy gets a chance there. It is quite different from our place where only some lucky guys are entrusted. I was given a real target, real target meaning real ones and I had just imagined my future with a French girl. I thought my ‘petit – petit’ (a little in English) knowledge of French was going to come handy.  I thanked my French ma'am.

    Packed with all the love and emotions of family and friends I took a train to Delhi from Anugrah Narayan, a small station near my village to catch my flight to Paris next day. As I was trying to locate my seat, I could easily sense the heated atmosphere inside the coach. The debate on the recent rape case by Asharam Bapu was on its zenith. Suddenly whole world seemed to be against him. I adjusted my extra-large luggage as the girl on the front seat stared me through her half opened eyelid. She seemed so annoyed of the discussion. One uncle gave his expert opinion, "rape should never be done by spiritual leader as their job is to build better society". I tried to jump into the discussion with my little wisdom. “It is our fault that we give little space to the spiritual leaders. Why does the society start making God out of human beings? Why don't we understand that this is a need of human being?” I don't know whether it was my religious interest which was coming out or I was defending my future.  Another uncle commented, "What Asharam Jee has done is a shame to the society. He could have enjoyed with his wife” and the discussion went on.  With all my management Gyan, I could easily foresee where the discussion was heading to. “Rape kind of tasks should be left for unmarried experts.” I could sense the fear of the young lady now. I thought it would be better to keep my mouth shut as all were married except me.  I took out my book ‘The Great Partition’ by Yashmin Khan. The author somehow appeared like giving clean cheat to both congress as well as Muslim league. The big massacre at the time of partition seemed to be unavoidable and both of these parties had little control over it. It was the complete collapse of trust between the two communities. The people were still busy building the recent great rape story and I went through some more pages. Train reached to Mughalsarai Junction in a while. The girl next to my seat got off and all the wise people briskly walked behind her. I tried to follow her through the window. The rape debate was still alive in my mind. For a moment my heart pounded with fear of untoward incident but then it calmed down. I thought she was safe as they all were married guys. They might have been running because none of them had tickets. I looked out of the window again. All were lost in the darkness. May be I was being too suspicious. I looked inside the coach. All of my belongings were still intact. A group of passengers, all Muslims as it was evident from their uniquely designed beard, came looking for their seats. Sometimes I wonder how all the Muslims get a typical style of beard! I would never get that style even if I stop shaving for months. Any way as they took their seats, I figured out that they all were going to Ajmer Sharif, a holy land of Khwaza Muinuddin Chisti, and they would travel with me up to Delhi. Although I had always hated religious division, still never felt easy passing through the Muslim colonies. The partition history was also somehow creating fear in me. In Kolkata Hindus were killed by Muslims on mass scale. Muslim league planned it properly. After half an hour all of them came together to recite Namaz. ‘Why they have to do it so many times a day’, I murmured out my frustration. See, I am Hindu and barely do anything religious in a year. The religion is the sole reason for plights of Muslims. It has been used to misguide them since long. I was lost in my thoughts as they performed their evening Namaz. One person led the proceeding and rest followed. After the Namaz, a new debate started. This is one reason why I love travelling in sleeper coaches. The social wisdom of India resides in its sleeper coaches and government must do something to tap it. The young Muslim guy was arguing “Namaz should never be recited wearing shoes or sleepers”. The old person was pissed off at the young generation for getting misguided by mullahs. He was annoyed that the young generation can spend thousands of rupees to buy cell phones but they don't bother to buy a copy of Kuran. He proclaimed, “There is no disrespect to Allah in reciting Namaz wearing shoes. In fact in trains one must wears it as these places are not clean. The discussion went on and I was getting divided every moment. It was 16^th August 1946, when Muslim league called for a direct action day in Kolkata. Mayor of Kolkata commanded, “We Muslims have had the crown and have ruled. Do not lose heart, be ready, and take swords. Oh Kafir! Your doom is not far and greater massacre will come”. I was confused whether to hate Islam or love it. It was my first close experience of Islam. The past was glim and present was pulling me. I closed the book and closed my eyes. They were eating Litties, my favorite food. I could sense the smell in my sleep. They were so same like me. I could not sleep. I hated the endless debate now. European beauties were far better than this. Who cares of the future? I don't care whether people make me Asharam Bapu or only Bapu, 30 years down the line. Any way I am not doing anything to anyone. None of the beauties are going to conceive my imagination. I was lost in my dream. By the time the train reached Delhi, it was already 9 am. The train had been late by 2 hours. It was chilled cloudy morning inside but outside it was hot. I looked into the mirror. The innocent face was brightened after the night dream. I hid my golden eyes under sun glasses. It was the omen of global warming. Europe was coming closer. I smiled at the tagline "be global and warm global" as I walked down the platform. Global warming was awaiting ahead.J
Its is a story of an ungratified soul. Continued....