With the whistle of train I came back to reality from wild imagination that triggered me after seeing that baby. I had almost seen his future through my eyes during those few minutes. The Train left from Hazrat Nizzamuddin for the next station; New Delhi. My destination was just 20 minutes away from Nizzamuddin station. The last 20 minutes of my suffering and then everything will be fine, I thought. On its way I saw Humayun ka makbara a beautiful tomb of Mughal king Humayun built by his wife. I could see a glimpse of parliament building lying far away and shining in the golden morning sunbeams. The traffic condition on Delhi’s road was in a deplorable state even in the presence of broad roads. One peculiar thing I noticed on Delhi road was that the pillion riders were wearing helmets along with the rider and it was strange sight for a boy from a city where even bike rider won’t wear helmet. It was a funny to see that they were following traffic rules so sincerely. Though may be not out of responsibility but out of fear of cop and heavy fine thereafter.
Around 7’O clock my train reached New Delhi Railway Station. I alighted on platform and stood outside S6 coach as instructed by my Massi. Actually the person who was supposed to pick me from the station was my distant relative and my Massi had told him that I will be standing near S6 coach so that neither he nor I would have to search for each other. You can call him my Jiju; a brother in law. I had not seen him neither he had any knowledge of my existence until two days before when he was asked to get me from the station and help me to find my reporting office. Three days before in Nagpur at my Massi’s home I was shown a VCR of Jiju’s marriage. A handsome, dashing man, sporting moushtache, height about 5’11”. Slim physique. These were the points I had taken note of so that I won’t miss him at station.
I stood there for almost 20 minutes starving out of hunger when one person approached me asking for my name. I didn’t recognize him at first sight. He introduced himself as Mahesh Gupta. Oh. He was the same person I was waiting for. My jiju. But something was there which caused me fail to identify him. He had put on weight and gone little fat. And yes his moustache was missing. That was the reason I failed to catch him at first look.
He generously lifted one of my heavy bags and asked me to follow him as he started moving towards the stairway. I could barely climb those dirty stairs leading to the over bridge stained with dried spittle of betel leaves which Indian people just love to chew. The Indian railways station’s filthy state was no different even at main station of Indian Capital. Few beggars-the most unproductive people of India-were sleeping on stairs blocking my way.
Jiju took me to the parking lot where my first ride on Delhi’s road was waiting. He easily managed to take his scooter out from that scrambled place. He gave me one spare helmet which he used to carry always with him. He told me that even if you are riding alone it’s better to keep one extra helmet for some unexpected and irresistible lift coming your way. You cannot afford to miss such chance, he wanted to tell me. I chuckled on his unsought explanation to my unasked question. I deduced his hidden advice and worn that helmet thinking how many such irresistible lifts had worn this before. He took his scooter from the narrow lanes of Paharganj to the broad roads of NH10, from straight highways to serpentine flyovers. Buses running indiscriminately one after another as if some Indian Grand Prix was going around ... Heavy construction work under way… honking, honking and more honking….heavy traffic jams.
Finally we reached his home at Paschim Vihar. Pinki didi was at Kitchen when we entered the house. I was seeing her after quite long time, may be 6-7 years. My memory of last meeting with her was not so clear. They had three year old son Kishu and Jijus mother in the family. A small happy family. Immediately after putting my luggage in hall I went downstairs to call home and inform my dad about my safe arrival at Delhi and at Didi’s home too. I went to nearby STD booth and dialed my neighbor’s phone number. During those days in our locality only my neighbor had Landline which he got connected after 6 months of waiting at BSNL office….. (To be continued)
