I recently moved into my Institute’s residential apartments. Life before that included facing the same old route with bustling traffic, finding every possible mode of transport on the roads ranging from trucks, buses, cars, to camel cart, and even horse driven carts. Indian traffic has its own saga which keeps getting edgy at every corner. Life also included seeing hundreds of people from all walks of life running to reach somewhere. All in a hurry usually. There also are scintillating to absolutely basic restaurant and makeshift type eating outlets. My most favourite is a dosa corner called Om Dosa Corner which doesn’t give you any options but only that one type of dosa, idli and their satiating sambhar. Even as I type, my mouth is watering. People living in Jodhpur and reading this article must try it. It’s located in Paota.
It may look like I am deeply reminiscing my memories of living elsewhere prior to moving in campus. In someway I am, because the peace and quiet of life inside campus is new to me. What is new is also the lack of engagement with general people on roads and shops. People who don’t bother me, people whom I don’t bother, yet our presence together in the roads and buses makes India the amalgamation of people that it is. But yesterday night was my first time when I accidentally came across a sound from outside my balcony that took me mentally to my hometown of Nainital and the audio cassette player of our two room house there.
It was raining at night after a thunderous sand storm in the evening. The wind was pleasant, the rain was a relief. And in this hour when the dry and mundane land of this arid region got sprinkled with showers from way above, I heard the sound of Madhushala by Manna Dey coming from some house in my vicinity. The melodious sound of Manna Dey and the approachable writing of Harivansh Rai Bachchan was so soothing to listen to. I along with my son stood in our balcony hearing “सुन, कलकल़ , छलछल़ मधुघट से गिरती प्यालों में हाला, सुन, रूनझुन रूनझुन चल वितरण करती मधु साकीबाला, बस आ पहुंचे, दुर नहीं कुछ, चार कदम अब चलना है, चहक रहे, सुन, पीनेवाले, महक रही, ले, मधुशाला”
In this absolute silent place, where conversations usually hang around work all the time, listening to this music which I used to hear so often when I was still in school, was more than welcoming. Just like the dry land of this place, my heart also showered in that thunderous night with melody. Science can make the world a great place to be alive in, but it is art, music and literature that make it worth living. To the one who was listening to that poetry yesterday, we need to sit and jamm sometime. Until then:
मैं शिव की प्रतिमा बन बैठूं, मंदिर हो यह मधुशाला।
Aali Pant 