Agra, popularly known as the City of Taj and the capital of erstwhile Mughals. Taj Mahal, a glorious white marble structure built at the core of Agra and along the bank of Yamuna River by ShahaJahan about 350 years ago in memory of his loving wife Mumtaz Mahal. So the name Tajmahal goes. Considered among the Seven Wonders of the World a spectacular piece of mughal architecture anyone will boast to have seen. Same goes with me.
I stood up and went innocently to get a glimpse of Tajmahal but to my surprise there was no such structure as farthest as my sight goes. In the wee hours of morning I could all see was a complete darkness. In another few seconds the train has entered into the station and came to halt. A noise of hawkers selling out the famous Petha from Agra was dispersed into the station. Some of the passengers went outside to purchase the packets full of Pethas. They looked so jubilant as if they came so long only for this Petha. I took none.
As train passed another hundreds of kilometers through the landscape of North India it reached Hazrat Nizzamuddin with the first rays of sunlight. The sight was no different than any other as seen across the length and breadth of Indian railway tracks. Shanties build along the land of flowing nullah. Poor slum dwellers and their kids in half naked condition. Some people were actually squatted close to the railway track to finish their morning chore. Some even returning the disgusting stare of passengers with equally disgusting look. It was awful sight to see. In India half of the city population lives in such horrible state of subsistence with no sign of complaints on their face.
A baby was crying inside a cradle swaying under the open sky. Cradle was hanged to one of the branch of tree and a rope was held by his mother in one hand. She was washing the utensils while rocking the cradle. The baby was learning to live under roofless shelter from the very first day. His life will not be much different than what his family is living or maybe he will change the trend. May be he will live on his own terms and not as ordained by his fate. He might go to nearby municipality school for his primary education and at the same time work with his father at some construction site. He has to quit his education following his father’s untimely death after the collapse of that Under-Construction Building his father was working in. Her mother may elope with her companion leaving him alone after finding it difficult to live without the source of sustenance. Poor financial condition will take him into the world of crime. He will learn every crime possible on earth right from pick pocketing to bank robbery. Who knows someday he might turn into cold-blooded murderer, a Mafia, a Don. If not then he might come into company of druggies. Addiction to cocaine, heroin and alcohol will ruin him and bring him to his utter end like many other unnamed and unclaimed bodies at municipal morgue.
Or life might have something different, something magnificent in its store for him. He will do well in his studies and get good scholarship for his engineering. He may attain some premier business school someday and eventually work for some MNC at heavy paycheque. Will roam in Benz and buy exquisite flat in Delhi’s most lavish area. Who knows? Who knows, except The One!.... (To be continued)
