Early morning bus ride. Back from hospital duty. Daily co passengers include a group of Telugu speaking couples. Middle aged. Cheerfully speaking to each other. Making way for me in the last seat. Squeezing readily.
The women with hair washed and drying as it is Friday. Glass bangles of different hues. As all village women wear. As when a new set is worn the older bangles are retained, not removed and thrown away. Brass nose rings. Large and stone studded. Just like Lakshmamma, Chinapaapakka. Back home.
Each couple having 2 trays and a spade. Probably going for construction work. Probably from a village.
Migration ? As village livlihoods fold up ?
Aches.
And yet all we can do is work harder. At establishing village livlihoods. There is no other way.
The auto charge was 50/-. I asked the young man driving the vehicle if he had change for 500/-. He added all the money he pulled out from different pockets. It only added up to 350/-.
I started counting all my change. After 3 ten ruppee coins, I started adding small change, he says simply, " It's ok if you don't have it. Don't worry.".
It is this simple unthinking generosity and detachment that I have seen in the so called poor, down the years.
A generosity forgotten the minute the act is done ...
The auto driver. "Physical strength is just one part. Mental strength (intelligence) is just another part. The real part is the goodness of the person, and the strength to walk on that part of goodness.That is what we need to nurture in our children."
For the past many years, all my learnings I have learnt from the (so called) common people of this land ...
It was getting late. I called out to an auto to reach the busstop. A young Muslim driver slowed down, and took me on. I was preoccupied, and so just as we reached the turn I called out urgently, 'Left, left'. He slowed, gave me a quizzical look and continued straight. I told him louder that he needed to go left ! And again I just got that question ing look. After once more, I gave up, just informed him that he would need to make a long detour this way. And sat back.
It was a crowded road, I could jump out anyway I thought. And the young man did not look threatening. Sometimes when people don't listen to you, you have to listen to them.
He did not take any detour. He the took the next right, and stopped a distance away from the bus stop.
Then he started.
"Amma, you are like my Amma, my Akka. They don't know the difference between left and right. I was going to turn right. And you started yelling, "Left, left'. Then I would have had to bang into the wall. So I went straight.
Like I tell my Amma and akka touch your arm and think. Before saying left or right. There is no difference between those who go to college and those who don't."
I was properly abashed, but I went on. "But you could have answered when I asked."
"Why Amma. I thought, let her watch, she will learn ..."
I paid him his fare with a thanks, and with a straight look into my eyes, a smile and a Nanri, he sped away.
There is no greater sense of loss. Than rushing to the bus stop and see the backside of the bus one wanted disappearing down the road into the distance.
And yet, after a timeless half hour, another bus does come.
It came.
Today's bus ride.
Got in at the terminus. Looked for a window seat, and there wasn't one. So sat next to a lady. With a plastic woven basket on her lap.
I sighed and said, "We are lucky to be getting in at the terminus. By the next stop, the bus is full." She smiled in agreement.
I lasked her if she works in this area. She said matter of factly, "No, I come from Mahabalipuram."
I looked at her more closely now. "I leave there at 4 in the afternoon", she said. I asked her where her home was. "Ramapuram", she said. "I reach home by 8 or 9", she added matter of factly.
"Mornings I leave by 6:30", she said when I asked.
I thought of asking her what work, but decided not to. Probably a house maid. Or a cleaner. Given the vast chasm between my privilege and her life, the question felt audacious. Though she would have answered friendlily. I knew.
Along the ride, she kept asking and taking bags from college girls who were struggling in the crowd. Till her lap was full.
Her stop came one stop before mine, and we parted. Friends for a brief moment in time.
Some lessons learnt, that I cannot yet articulate ... maybe too deep for articulation ...
Auto driver, "I wanted a work where I could serve people, and also earn honestly", as part of a long conversation along the ride.
Such a simple philosophy, and yet so profound.
Auto Driver, "People seek physical strength, health. Or intelligence. For their children.
But goodness, kindness. Just the essence of being a good human being ? Which should be valued above everything else ? ... "
... during yesterdays long ride.
I took a share auto today. 20/-. I was the only one one. For five minutes i luxuriated in the sense of sole traveller as usually they try to pack in about 10 people.
Till I saw the auto drivers face in the mirror. .
Grim and worried. He would slow down wherever there were some people on the roadside, and ask them if they wished to enter. No one did. He would slow down when someone was crossing the road, in the possibility that they might enter. Not one did.
For the entire journey I was the only traveller. Though I overpaid, I wonder if he will get his petrol cost by days end. He must be having children at home. He must be needing to buy milk for them. Notebookds for school.
I noticed that this was the same for other autos. Driving with just one or two passengers. Too many young unemployed seem to have tried to earn with autos. As all avenues were closing in.
I remembered Munusamy in the village. Who similarly bought a second hand auto, but could never manage enough passengers to break even.
With such attrition of livlihoods everywhere, where will things end ?
And I also saw the ladies and gentlemen in chauffer driven cars with windows rolled up. In blissful unawareness of the desperate realities others live in. One country, two worlds.
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