~ 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…