Friday, April 21, 2017

42. Chota Bheem & Superstar


I was one of the very few people in the station. I was waiting for my usual. It is the last fast train to my home. As I boarded the train, I was hoping that someone I knew would be in the coach. Though it’s comfortable to travel in a coach that’s free, it’d feel eerily empty to travel at that time of night.
The train had picked up pace.
Work was pretty hectic for the entire month. I barely got time to take my eyes off my monitor, and was totally exhausted. So I had totally forgotten about my niece’ request until she called. “Uncle have you submitted for the contest?”
“I am on it” I lied
“Don’t forget na… Tonight is the deadline” she said and bade goodnight
There was a selfie contest conducted by my mobile phone manufacturer. You have to submit a selfie with your childhood friend and write about your experience. It was a good marketing ploy, nothing connects with your customer base like nostalgia.

Unfortunately, there was no familiar face in the train that day, except this shabby looking, unshaven guy who lives in a development area couple of blocks away from my home.
I used to know him during school days when we used to play ‘bet’ matches with his gang. Our teams were even match in terms of win percentage, though in terms of finesse, I felt we were far better. They were known to be ruffians, and even our ‘umpire’ used to scare his decisions in their favour when they raise their voice.
The guys called themselves ‘Super stars’. And they moved like wolf packs. We called ourselves ‘Chota Bheems’, and this was even before the cartoon was conceptualised. The day my niece introduced me to the cartoon, I called my friend ‘Gopi’ to reminisce about the good old days. We rarely get to meet each other nowadays. The guys have moved to different parts of the world.
Wonder what the ‘Super stars’ are doing nowadays. I have seen one of them drive an Ola cab a few weeks back. Heard their team captain ran for ward councillor, rather unsuccessfully. The difference between the localities still remain.

The uniform of the guy in the train resembled one of those automobile assemblies. I tried to remember his name…. ‘Ramesh’ I guessed. I have seen him a couple of times during my morning walks, but never got to actually interact with him.
“Hi, You are Ramesh, right? Remember we used to play against each other during school days?” I broke the ice
“Errr… Oh…. Ahh… Yes….I remember you as the wicket keeper batsman, but sorry I don’t remember your name” he said in a tone somewhere between sincere apology and complete detachment. I was glad he remembered my keeping skills
After some pleasantries and introduction, I explained him about the contest and asked him for a selfie. He agreed with an awkward smile trying to hide his discomfort / disbelief. I thanked him profusely, and got a weak smile as response from him. Not a person of words I guessed. But he was smiling throughout the journey
-----x----
I used to bump into him occasionally during our subsequent train journeys. Unlike us, most of his friends were still living nearby. He had done his diploma and had recently joined for a part time course. Unlike me, he had leftist view on most of the things, yet was articulate enough to communicate his views clearly. And this perspective did help me solve a couple of labour issues at work.
“We used to call you ‘Mongia’ after the Indian wicket keeper. I never knew your real name” he told me during one of these interactions.
When I mentioned about our fear for their team, he guffawed, “We are not ruffians. We tried to look menacing, so that we could get some moral advantage”
“We were like West Indies, you were like England” he mocked our ‘very’ conservative style
And he added on a serious note “But we did feel you guys looked down upon us. A couple of guys turned rogue because they were treated that way. You’d feel it’s better to be feared than be pitied” I realised he was speaking about the entire society and not just the ‘Chota Bheems’
----x----
A few days later he came with a box of sweet. “I got promoted” he was all smiles. It was a similar late night journey.
I told him that our selfie won a gaming console for my niece. They are planning an ‘ad’ based on it. I wholeheartedly thanked him.
 “Sir... no need of ‘Thanks’” he dismissed
“My niece would love to meet and thank you.” I insisted
There was a pause as if he was thinking what to say. “Remember the first day we met on the train.” He started. “I was on an all-time low that time. I couldn’t pay for my kid’s school fees on time. Couldn’t get them anything beyond basic necessity. This, after spending unduly hours at work, and doing whatever I thought I was capable of. My family did understand my inability. But I didn’t. Everything in life felt unfair” I was trying to fathom what he was telling.
“Your friendly gesture that day changed something in me. I started connecting with people around me. I started connecting back with my old friends. Didn’t realise we were living practically next door. I opened up to my family. I have learnt to seek and receive help” His voice broke, but he continued
 “I joined for graduation recently. My financial status has improved only moderately. Family life, a tad better. But am lot happier and much more in peace with myself. I think I should thank you for this change in me” He was speaking from deep felt gratitude.

I was speechless…. And I was thinking he was not good with words. I still couldn’t fathom such a simple act would have so much impact on someone.
It looked like he was about to hug me but decided against it. But I felt the hug
He made me realise that the best help you do is not monetary
It was my turn to keep smiling the entire journey


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