Many stories are parading in the public. We just need to offer the people necessary space so that they can narrate them.
Part I: O Captain! My Captain!
I recently completed my 4-day trip to West Bengal, where I spent three days at Santiniketan and a day at Kolkata. I admire Kolkata, you know! And the people there. Neither because it’s the closest metro city to my home. Nor because it has got some heritage. Also, not because it possesses the iconic Howrah Bridge across the Hooghly, a distributary of the Ganges. Absolutely not due to the political power at the centre. Then? What’s it?
Rapido or bike has been my favourite mode of commuting inside the city for obvious reasons. I booked one to drop me at the Victoria Memorial. I knew it would be closed post-evening, but since I checked in in the city the same evening, I thought I would relish the nightlife. It took some time for the ride to get confirmation. I got a call from the captain (that’s what Rapido says) to lead the team, in this case, me, to my destination. Surprisingly, the language issue has almost vanished (people there are fond of their language) compared to when I visited during my school days. The conversation flowed in Hindi. After a while, a guy came on his scooty to offer me a ride. He looked almost like a secondary school student. I jumped on the pillion seat and the scooty accelerated, steering through the smooth but congested roads. I was lost in the hustle and bustle of the city when a question surprised me.
“Aap Bihar se ho kya bhai?”
“Haan ji. To be specific mai Gaya se hun“, I said. I understood that he sensed it when he heard my tone and inflexion.
“Mai Rafiganj se hun“, he said excitedly.
“To fir yahan kaise? Akele rehte ho?” I asked to know his whereabouts.
“Nhi nhi. Dada aur Abbu kafi waqt se yahin hai.” He replied.
“Oh badhiya! Ye to pas me hi hai mere. Delhi aate-jaate waqt milta hai”, I showed a sense of belonging.
“Delhi me kya karte ho?“, he became inquisitive.
“PhD kar rha hun” I refrained from giving all details at once.
He accelerated the vehicle with confidence as if he knew every corner of the city. A chill ran through my body.
“Subject?” he asked again.
“English”, I said and asked rapido ke alawe aap kya karte ho?
“I am a college dropout”, he changed the language to English and said proudly.
It was my turn to get surprised. After all, my guess was partly correct “Why? What’s the reason?” I asked.
“I want to pursue my passion. Do something of my own”, he stated.
“But why did you leave the college? You could’ve pursued along with your degree.” I enquired.
Inside, I admired his bold move. Something I didn’t have the courage to do.
“Why waste time, energy and money when I have no interest?” he replied firmly.
“I guess you’ve got a point”, and added, “What do you plan on doing?”
“Interior designing”, he admitted.
“Great great. It’s a nice area to build your career in”, I encouraged him.
“Absolutely”, he supported.
“But don’t you need to pursue a course for that?” I showed my concern.
“Not really. I am thinking of opening my own firm”, he stated his intentions.
“I admire that……but…….”
A person who has been conditioned for the job is always hesitant to do business.
He cut me short and said, “I only need to improve my English?”
“Oh! But what for?” I asked because he was speaking English fairly well.
“To attract the foreign clients. I may think of settling there as well”, he extended his ambitions.
I started growing a bit uneasy. I felt belittled by his ambitions. Nonetheless, to keep the conversation going, I gave him some usual tips to improve his English.
“You can try speaking in front of the mirror. Read any newspaper, prepare a topic and then practice it”
“Speaking on a prepared topic when no one is there is easy”, he again counteracted my statement.
“Then you can consider joining a spoken class”, I tried to convince him again.
He pondered for a while, and before he could reply, I was at my destination.
“Here is the Nandan Academy of Arts you wanted to see”, he said.
Chalo bhaiya! Thanks for this ride and the conversation. I wish you all the best. Show your QR code so that I can make the payment. He took out his 2nd phone (the first one was mounted on the scooty for GPS purposes) brand-new iPhone 16, opened the QR and showed it to me. I paid him with a little extra that he asked for from my Vivo.
I stood still until his scooty disappeared in the ocean of traffic on the road. A little after, I entered again into my illusory world of arts to collect my stirred thoughts.
I hope you’ve got an answer to the question I posed in the beginning.
©Shashank
P.S. I’ll share Part II of the story under this title in my subsequent posts.
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