It was last Friday when I was heading towards home from the city of Ahmedabad. I boarded the bus which was scheduled to leave at 4.30p.m. And hell! I was up for a three hours long journey finding myself in the world’s most-crammed bus ever, placed over one of the least comfortable seats ever. It was 6.15 pm, and I saw the setting sun as the bus coursed on the Bridge of River Mahisagar, the fourth largest river of Gujarat. The beautiful river demarcates the two districts and just as the bus crossed the bridge the first thing that met the eyes were huge areas of mining and factories that churned out little pieces of stones. The dust coming out from the factories and the mines added to the gloominess brought in by the setting sun. The roads were deserted and people were nowhere within sight. Peeping out of the window I could only see loneliness and hollowness, and unfortunately, I loved the feeling it evoked in me. It reminded me of the scene in the film named Border, in the end, where in Akshay Khanna dies and Pooja Bhatt waits for him with longing eyes. I forced myself to think of something that made me feel good about this twilight.
Way back in 90’s, I guess somewhere in 1996, I was 8 years old and my sister was 11. Our house lay close by the river where it took a sudden meandering turn along its path. On the bank opposite to where my home was, there was a small Dargaah. Kehne ke liye it was close, but it was an altogether different place, a world apart. My side was crowded with people and their ill-planned houses, and the other side, also crowded but with trees and trees with birds and their chirpings. One fine Sunday when twilight struck, my dad took me and my sister to that place. I was thrilled to be on my dad’s Bajaj Super Scooter, nestled safely in the leg space provided, right in front of him. It almost felt as if it was I who was riding the bike. It barely took us ten minutes to exit our world and to enter the magical world on the other side. After crossing the bridge, we left the main road and took the small path that was covered with a lot of dirt. The muddy path was adorned on both sides by rows of fragrant Nilgiri trees. The birds were chirping at its peak, but it wasn’t noisy, it was the music of the souls and I can feel it even today. As we reached the Dargaah, we found nobody around but for the Maulvisaab along with a few Peacocks that ran here and there. I had never seen one up close. Dad led me inside the Dargaah. My sister waited outside. The atmosphere inside was suffused with the aroma of rose petals and incense sticks which made the experience divine. Once my Dad and I were outside, the Maulvisaab made gentle hand movements over me and my sister holding a bunch of peacock feathers that were tied together. Dad then took us both to a small path behind the Dargaah that seemed to disappear into the river. As we gently stepped down that path, I couldn’t contain my excitement any longer and I took the plunge. My sister followed. The best time of my life, splashing around carelessly in the waters, dancing away and trying my best to play God – as in, making desperate attempts to walk on water, but all in vain. One of the best things about childhood, of believing one could achieve the impossible.
And then it was time to leave. It was getting darker by the minute and dad thought it best to leave to home. As we walked towards the scooter, I remember looking back one last time, to fill my eyes with the beautiful sight of the Dargaah and everything around it, which made me so happy. I haven’t visited that place ever again in my life after that. The muddy path, the trees, the birds, the Dargaah, the Peacocks, the path to the river, are still locked up in my memory, never to be erased. And these memories come rushing through when I’m bathed in twilight, when I hear the birds chirp, or see a river flow, it gives me the feeling of having magically been transported to that very place yet again, and as if, time has come to a standstill, even years after years..
Way back in 90’s, I guess somewhere in 1996, I was 8 years old and my sister was 11. Our house lay close by the river where it took a sudden meandering turn along its path. On the bank opposite to where my home was, there was a small Dargaah. Kehne ke liye it was close, but it was an altogether different place, a world apart. My side was crowded with people and their ill-planned houses, and the other side, also crowded but with trees and trees with birds and their chirpings. One fine Sunday when twilight struck, my dad took me and my sister to that place. I was thrilled to be on my dad’s Bajaj Super Scooter, nestled safely in the leg space provided, right in front of him. It almost felt as if it was I who was riding the bike. It barely took us ten minutes to exit our world and to enter the magical world on the other side. After crossing the bridge, we left the main road and took the small path that was covered with a lot of dirt. The muddy path was adorned on both sides by rows of fragrant Nilgiri trees. The birds were chirping at its peak, but it wasn’t noisy, it was the music of the souls and I can feel it even today. As we reached the Dargaah, we found nobody around but for the Maulvisaab along with a few Peacocks that ran here and there. I had never seen one up close. Dad led me inside the Dargaah. My sister waited outside. The atmosphere inside was suffused with the aroma of rose petals and incense sticks which made the experience divine. Once my Dad and I were outside, the Maulvisaab made gentle hand movements over me and my sister holding a bunch of peacock feathers that were tied together. Dad then took us both to a small path behind the Dargaah that seemed to disappear into the river. As we gently stepped down that path, I couldn’t contain my excitement any longer and I took the plunge. My sister followed. The best time of my life, splashing around carelessly in the waters, dancing away and trying my best to play God – as in, making desperate attempts to walk on water, but all in vain. One of the best things about childhood, of believing one could achieve the impossible.
And then it was time to leave. It was getting darker by the minute and dad thought it best to leave to home. As we walked towards the scooter, I remember looking back one last time, to fill my eyes with the beautiful sight of the Dargaah and everything around it, which made me so happy. I haven’t visited that place ever again in my life after that. The muddy path, the trees, the birds, the Dargaah, the Peacocks, the path to the river, are still locked up in my memory, never to be erased. And these memories come rushing through when I’m bathed in twilight, when I hear the birds chirp, or see a river flow, it gives me the feeling of having magically been transported to that very place yet again, and as if, time has come to a standstill, even years after years..
