..as if I don’t see so many forms …..in which life survives….on a Sunday…. when m not on a Bus…..so much we have learnt, so much we have built ….so much more we know now ….about the moon, the stars, about the life on mars, and below the earth and in the sea……and we know how to fly and we can hear each other speaking , laughing, crying no matter how for we are ….we have so much more now …than mere imaginations…mere wishes…and I wonder wot more is to come……!!!
But for some …its still a daily battle to drop something down the gullet into the hungry pouch…they dance, n sing…n beg n walk miles and miles ….in the sun, in the crowd, in the rain, in the wind… and on the Buses!!!!
Life doesn’t feel sorry…for them!!!! Pride is wot I see in their eyes for they have more of it …THE LIFE!!Alittle brother …with a more little sister…boarding the bus…the brother playing the harmonium with his small, dark, sun burnt hands…. black greasy nails you would seem to puke at once you see them early in the morning on your way to office….. but then u dismiss the thought coz you know they are busy enough for these things to ever let them become a concern… and the sister dancing on numbers like … “bidi jalaile……jigar se piya…..jigar ma badi aag hai”
Phew!!!!….. Still the innocence. …Stands taller than vulgarity…strength stands taller than the fate… …and hope stands taller than the hardships…hope to earn da “ tutey”…a few more today…And the brother knows he is the elder one and …and that his sister is a girl…. true..I can see that he knows so much more ….I can see that in his eyes …when he calls on her…and murmurs something between his teeth as they get down the bus…. he looking straight into the eyes of that man …who finds no reason to feel the shame!!
And today …when she came and stood besides me..With those two flat grey stones …or whatever that is supposed to be …I saw in her eyes such a dark shade of “yellow” and I understand…. but that’s all I do…. she has no time to take rest…. there isn’t an option with her…. dying out of hunger is a weak reason to die I suppose…no one would want that….. disease is still, a reason to die with pride… that’s not your fault!!! May be that is what sends her daily to climb Buses and sing and..then touch the feet of all of us sitting and looking at her as if not wanting her to come to us ….b’coz we know we cant shell out even few bucks on her….. and we know we are ashamed of it…BUT we know we cannot afford it daily…coz we have our daily expenses to meet out TOO!!! Don’t we….???
And when I am struggling to take care that my dupatta stays…atleast manages to serve its purpose …in the limited space where I am standing on my feet…with so many standing and sitting all around me….I am managing somehow not to fall and hurt myself…not to allow that gentleman peep into, where he so much can’t help but …and all the time when I am busy taking care of my handbag…and cursing the day….and the men…and the eyes…I find her so smoothly …managing to sing and protect her baby….her son who is busy sleeping in the pouch she has made tying a dirty checked linen around her thin waste ……she is singing and ….she says….…. “halwa banaongi….maa…….”
And I see her doing the same thing ….in the same way…. like that little girl…with yellow eyes… And she gets down my bus….I know she wont stop…she’ll be boarding so many of them …long after I have reached my comfortable seat in the office….sipping my cup of Coffee….and picking up the incomplete chores …meeting my deadlines….and missing them so much…all of them…as I sit in the bus in the evening!!!1 Thanking God…. they take some rest…after all the days work…like me!!!
I’ll meet at least one of them. …again tomorrow!!!!
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