“Wherever you go, go with all your heart” — Confucius
I was at home for a week to be a part of celebrations like Rakshabandhan, Independence Day and Shri Krishna Janmasthami. It’s been years since I stayed at home during this part of the year. I wanted to relish these festivals, the rainy season and those feelings, altogether. Hence, I planned my trip home in such a way that I had to take less leave, while saving most of it for the upcoming festivals. Believe me! I am not kidding if I say that as you grow up, you’ll feel that you’ve to invest yourself in planning your leave more than your work.
On a day between the two festivals, my mom asked me to bring a basket of fruit from the market. I grabbed the keys to my bike and hopped to the garage in ecstasy. As I came out with the bike, I saw the clouds rushing from somewhere to envelop the sky. They weren’t dark and fearful. Instead, they looked light and joyful. It created the same impact on me. I went into the house and asked my mom, “Do you need the fruits right away?” She replied negatively.
I had my wish. I followed my mind. I sped off to the road I liked the most. The droplets of rain adorned my path. I kept shifting gears as per the requirements. The 160cc engine responded promptly to my inputs. I passed through the busy markets, where the National Highway looked narrow because of the street vendors occupying half of the lane. It’s their lifeline, their mode of survival, I thought and moved ahead. I crossed the bridge across the river Falgu. I could see the city surmounted by a range of mountains and a river separating them. Life exists amidst those lifeless rocks. I reflected and accelerated the bike in the direction I wanted to go. The intensity of the drizzle increased. The wipers of the car were seen in action, though in intermittent mode. Pedestrians have taken shelter beneath the shops. The roadside vendors also wrapped up their stalls. I was wearing a helmet, so I kept going. I passed through the roadside settlements where people seemed in haste to protect their clothes and their firewood from rain. Where would they go in the case of torrential rain? I wondered as I shifted the gear and twisted the throttle. The bike picked up some speed. The road was partially deserted. Some cars and bikes kept leaving me behind. I also overtook some of them to reach where I wanted to!
The Falgu River runs parallel to the Gaya-Bodhgaya road, but is often separated by rich flora, settlements and markets. I wanted to come to the point where it comes closest, or meet, if not intersect. I parked the bike, took off the helmet and gazed at the breathtaking view. On one side, there was an artificially built road connecting people, whereas on the other side, there was a river running far and wide. I was standing in between the two, thinking which of the two is greater in length and which is more valuable. In today’s age, both are indispensable. But modernity needs to go hand in hand with nature, not at the latter’s cost. The devastating scenes of Uttarakashi, Jammu and Punjab flashed momentarily before my eyes. I gasped as I thought and shifted my gaze to the mountain.
I drove a few km ahead, then turned back when I realised I had to take something home. There were more signboards, promising to take me to the other beautiful destinations and journeys. Though I’ve already been to some of them, I kept the unexplored destinations for the other time. The river accompanied me as I drove, and then disappeared as soon as I entered the market.
On the way back, I witnessed the colours of freedom. And with them came a whirlpool of thoughts. Are they actually free to enjoy this day without stepping out of a day for work? Would I be able to do something for them? These questions agitated me to the core.
By the time I reached home, my mom was already awaiting me with the reasons for my delay!
©Shashank
Pragmatic's Personas 