Ever since I entered college, I expected life to give me moments to roam with friends. But as I already narrated somewhere before, I never got such a chance until one night Hardik came and told that he had to go home for his parents’ 25th wedding anniversary and that before going, he wanted me and him to enjoy the whole day in the city. That was Sunday, 18th of January 2009. We got up early and got ready to go out to the city. It was a sunny but cold day.
We first stopped to eat my favourite cheese patties. Then moved ahead to one of our favourite eating destinations, Chhappan Dukan. There we had so many snacks, we drank coconut to its fullest, clicked each other and in order to have a photograph together, Hardik requested the coconut-seller to click it for us. We walked and walked, talking and talking. Then we reached another famous eating desination of Indore, the Sarafa (the jewellery market), where you would wish you had another spare tummy to absorb all those delicious items available. I don’t remember what foodstuff we left from eating. Then we walked across the narrow streets of the city market whereby small temporary shops set up every Sunday in front of the closed big shops. We bought some posters from a small child and Hardik insisted paying him an extra ten rupees for him being so gentle and poor. Hardik had always shown pity over the poor and the needy (his greatest asset being his generous nature).
It was around 2pm. We were walking through the streets where I would have been as a child with my parents. But for a large part, they seemed to be so new to me. We came in front of Jankinaath temple where Ramayan-paath was going on. Seeing my expressions, Hardik suggested to go inside. (I always wondered how did he know what I wanted) There were around 60-70 middle to old aged people having the divine pleasure of Ramcharitmanas. People singing devotional phrases with good music instruments have always been a charm for me.
I saw a harmonium kept at the centre with nobody around it and the bhajan was still going. I asked a man, probably as old as my grandpa, if they minded me playing that instrument. He agreed and I sat infront of the singing group. I bowed my head to the harmonium and played it for them. After the song was over, one of them asked me whether I do sing or not and they all insisted me to sing something when I played the instrument such nicely.
“Ram naam ras pee le pyare, Pyas teri mit jayegi” (meaning to quench one’s divine thirst with the name of Lord Ram). My bhajan rendered some of them quite nostalgic and so was I. I took their kind permission to leave since I had to leave Hardik to the bus depot and I had to return back to hostel. They all showered numerous words of blessings and asked me to keep visiting. We both came out. I bursted out crying while wearing shoes. He just let me cry, knowing that I miss my granny at such instances.
We moved towards the place where he had to catch his bus. But he asked the auto rickshaw driver to take us from a different way. It was through Chaawni where in a single minute he ran and fetched delicious Mirchi-bada, Kachoris and tasty tea for both of us. We slurped the whole stuff in minutes and we reached the bus depot. I was quite heavy hearted while seeing him off but was happy to have him in my life. I sent him a text, “U are actually wat ur name means…hapy jrny bro..God bles u ever”
I once again read what all I just wrote and am again full of enthusiasm, being reminded of those precious moments of life. I wish everyone gets to experience such lovely instances…
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