~ A Cobbler's Life...~

 He has been around for more than three decades doing the same work and always wearing the same smile as he always did when I used to see him as a kid. The shanty he made as his shop resembles the same emblem and also that nothing has changed in it either. As it is a small 6X6 meter makeshift space that he made it as his workplace, that time was different and that there was only a flower bearing a shrub which has not blossomed itself to be cascading all around his sitting, it does give a marvelous look.

I met ‘Salim after ages, I would say so, he still smiled on seeing me and always welcomed me the way he used to do when I was young enough. Salim is our local cobbler and he has been around since time immemorial, now that many of us don’t visit such places and repair our broken / wear-out footwear, the mall culture has tamed us to use and throw our buys in quick succession – after all it is the time of impulsive consumerism!

Coming back to my original theme, Salim sits in the same posture, on the elevated ground, cuddling himself to comfort – for that is the best posture for him to do his work type with precision, after all, there are some costly footwear repairs which comes his way and any scope of error would be a fallibility on his part and he would loose his customer and brand of a top cobbler in the vicinity – mind it , at his level too, the competition plays its part.

As I sat along with him in his shanty, the talk of good old times started to come up – as we exchanged our past lives and what we have been doing since years passed by, I was wonderstruck to listen to his story of life. His two sons were working in Gurgoan in top MNC’s in CAD (computer Aided design) and were English speakers, unlike him – his eyes widened up with profound honour when he thus spoke of them, I was seeing the proud feeling of a father who could not do much in his life but silently focused on his work and towards his aim to make both of his sons a English speaking gentlemen – his dream was almost fulfilled as he had one wish (which is the wish of a father across the globe) – to get his sons married and make them settled in life.

“What after that, Salimji?” as I asked.

“Nothing, life would be same again but with a difference, I will have the honour to take a break out of this shop!, I have chosen Sunday as the day when I wont come here and be at home.” – this opened a pandoras box for me as I asked “ So you have not taken any holiday or an off during these times?”

“Yes, Almost, I can count my days on my fingertips and tell you when I was on off, hearing about such commitment made me stand still – the man truly deserved honours, a silent worker just like India’s mountain man’ “Dashrath Manjhi” , a labourer from Gaya,Bihar, India - who silently worked for decades to carve out a way by manually doing labour work with a chisel and hammer.

As Salimji had repared my slippers, it was time to go and say goodbye – the penultimate gesture which touched me was his fees , still he asks his fee with a sentence “ Bauji, jo sahi samjho dedo!” [Whatever you deem fit for my work, give it.], the thought till now keeps me mesmerized with such souls in and around you, especially in the world of people insanely running about wealth and possessions , though they have done more harm to themselves that anybody else… Salimji is an example of focus of life and the way one should live it!

~ The Walk…~

My morning walk saga has changed a bit and that is due to an unaccustomed mate who has joined me. I don’t know him nor does he know me, as I have seen him since two days sitting in the muddy water, cooling himself of this humid climate. Just the other day our eyeball-to-eyeball contact led him to follow me rigorously as he was my obedient fellow pal. Surely, this act of his made others walking on the aisle a bit nervous and uncomfortable as the was after all a street dog!

As I also started to observe his gestures with adamant care, he had followed me in a unique way. Testing him was the only way I could have had a glimpse of his loyalty towards me. I steered away from my usual path and so did he, when I stopped, he stopped too wagging his tail quite often. I don’t know what past life connect we both might have, his expecting eyes were intriguing and just looking at him would make him happy, all I could guess was that he just wanted to be with me and I was too loving my just found company!

Suddenly, I stopped as it was time for my stretching exercises, he stopped too and to my amazement started to softly meow as if he wanted to walk more with me – his tail wagged non-stop. I immediately sensed his want and swiftly did my exercise with a motive to walk as the cannel so wanted – I realized that I had just formed a bond with him and wanted to keep that for long , so soon I started to look around for him as I walked, a clear sense of ‘sensitivity’ had dawned upon me, knowingly fully well that there were so many other street dogs in the part who could pose a real danger to my friend, citing so that he was frail and not that strong to defend himself of any eventuality.

Then the time came that I had to leave as time was pointing me to start my daily chores though internally, I was in no mood to say ‘adieu’ but the situation became so. I turned around and caressed him, he too obliged and sat on his haunches and incessantly wagged his tail showing his sweet nature and love for me. The whole gesture became a timeless moment and in that I gave him a name “Milo”.

He kind of loved his newfound name as when I started to walk he had sensed that it was end of today’s meeting as he could see the exit gate of the park. He stopped and when I turned back and voiced ‘Milo’ he came running towards me.

I had surely overrun the time for my daily walk but was in no repentance, the time I had spend with Milo was a memorable one, the Cynophile that I am, my love for dogs (especially street dogs) is no secret, almost every canine who lives in my vicinity knows me and wags his/her tail when they see me.

Now I wait for the sunset today when I will again be meeting my friend ‘Milo’ and would thus walk with him – thinking of even talking with him even if our languages are different but ‘Love’ being the bridge will fill the vacuum…

~ My Coconut Friend...~

 He has taken a vow to make people healthy and he is totally committed to this cause. ‘Dayanand’ as he is called with love amongst many of the early bird’s aka ‘Morning Walkers’ many of whom make it a point to have “narial pani” [Coconut Water] after their sweat chocked walk. 

He is dot on time and that is 6:00 a.m. and mostly is accompanied by his son who is a helping hand in his morning chores. After corona, people have risen to one reality of life and that is , “Health is Wealth!” – they have seen human deprivation and death as never before, helpless people who earnestly wanted a life were not given a chance to take the next breath! – All this becomes a glimpse reminder of the near past and this probably is the main cause of many people flocking our neighborhood park to be fit and remain healthy.

bnDayanand is adding to their resolve and bring with him a cart full of about 100 odd coconuts to be distributed on ‘discounted’ price. Some ask him to slice it so that they can have it there and then, many of the morning walkers make it a point to take them home. Just the other day, a gentleman proposed Dayanand if he can bring an icebox to keep some coconuts in it so that many of his customers can enjoy the coolness of the coconut drink.

Dayanand is a humble businessman and is not very strict about pricing his ‘product’ – he knows that many of his customers are his friends and he is in a thorough conversation with him – selling coconuts is just a time pass as he laughingly says sometimes 😊!

His son “Sagar’ was the main reason he switched to selling coconuts – earlier he was a vegetable seller for many years as he tells me. “ Mera beta bahu bimar ho gaya tha, doctor ne jawab de diya tha, nariyal peene se hi theek hua…[My son became seriously ill, he was put on liquid diet, coconut came out as a life saviour for him!] , ever since I have switched my product and started to sell coconut – I now know its therapeutic qualities and is generally good for health – As he spoke, I contemplated that the man who was not so much educated was a degree-less doctor who had taken upon himself to make people drink coconut water for he knew that is good for their health!

To many of his customers, he jokes “100 saal jiyoge agar mera nariyal pani peeyoge 😊!” [ 100 years you will live if you will drink my coconut water!], for sure he is a good marketeer, his laugh is contagious , though he himself is soaked in sweat as his work is purely manual, but he always has an alternative and that is his “Break time” wherein he slashes through on of his ‘Malaaidar Nariyal’ [Cream Coconut] and sips through its content, side by side conversing the benefits to his customers…

Thanks Gayanand for making us connect with the benefits of this drink, I have taken a complete U-turn of having my morning tea-cuppa with an aim to live 100 years as my morning friend vehemently so voices…!

~ My Name is Vicky..~

“My name is Vicky!” – this one vernacular made me look at the man with astonishment. I could have never believed him to reply to me like this. The firmness in his tone was beyond my wildest comprehension.

The man wearing a dilapidated and unwashed wardrobe was sitting on the pavement with a small “Dafli” and singing orthodox songs fascinated some passersby, I being one of them. He was totally engrossed in his music, with closed eyes and caring for none – as if he was finetuned with God at the moment. His music made me stop for few minutes as I got mesmerized with is love for music and the way he was singing. Suddenly he stopped and open his eyes as if he just had had an internal sense of realization that he was being closely watched.

A Sudden eye contact with him made me speak about his singing attributes and that he matched the ‘dafli’ to the tunes he was singing. His worn-out attire was testament to a life he was living, giving him alms made him hurt his ego as he certainly was not a beggar but had fallen on severe bad times.

“Sir, I am a graduate but lost the plot of life, I am no beggar!” – his second line was a one liner description of his life – certainly, he had to be convinced to accept something for the music he had made for us.

He took it reluctantly, may be his ego was not allowing him to take it. On much prodding and trying to make a bond with him, me and a friend accompanying me started to delve into his previous life and what made him reach this predicament of life. Vicky was shaky in start but he belonged to good family in Lucknow where his parents were government officials and he had a sister who is married in Delhi…”Koi nahi poochta ab, parents hai nahi aur didi nahi baat karti!” [Nobody asks about my whereabouts, my mom and dad are no more, my sister is least bothered about me.”

“Sab meri hi karni hai,buri sangat ka asar , [Its all my fault, I fell in bad company when I came in Delhi!], he took the money with a little smile on his face and then deep melancholy befell on his face – I could judge that he was severely repentant of his life and what he had made out of it.

Vicky fell in bad company when he came in Delhi , a state which he had come with lots of dreams and aspirations, all fell like pack of cards…now that he is alone and is living a life of penury, his only passion sometimes come to his help “music and singing which I love” so whemently he speaks about….

“Yeh mere saath akhri tak jayega…jab tak mein hoon…” – [This will go till the end of my journey of life]…he laughs…with his toothless smile….his journey continues… pavement to pavement… singing his melodies to his hearts content…