Memories.

 Memories. 

During Durga Pooja holidays for 20 days (1974-1979) which are in the month of October at Indian School of Mines (now ISM-IIT) Dhanbad, I usually travelled by Howrah -Delhi - Kalka Mail as my temporary native place was Ambala Cantt., where my father was posted as he was Captain in Indian Army. We (Mr Malhi my one year senior  also from Ambala and me) were on our journey from Dhanbad to Ambala Cantt. The Howrah- Delhi- Kalka Mail usually reached Old Delhi station at 7.50pm and commenced it’s journey further for Kalka at 10.50pm. A halt of 3hours. We generally went out from Old Delhi Railway station to watch a English or Hindi movie at nearby theatres. On that day in the year 1976, since we were waiting for our train for onward journey to Ambala, we decided to explore the streets of Delhi. The old buildings, monuments, food, people and many more things were enchanting at nearby Chandni Chowk of Old Delhi. After coming back from the old streets we still had some time for our train to leave. We decided to sit somewhere outside the station in peace. Under  a huge tree, I saw a woman sitting with a tabby cat and her luggage. Her beauty was bewitching. 

That sari, her ageing hair, antique jewellery and most enchanting was her blue green eyes. She had a different vibe. She was sitting on one of the cement chabutara under that same tree. I found her very interesting. Being fascinated, I couldn’t resist myself and dragged my friend and went near her, and I asked her if we could accompany her. Sure, she replied. Kuchh Loge, she told as she was drinking Chai. She enquired where we were from and what we were doing in Delhi, she said her name was Maya. I noticed Maya had a book and a charcoal pencil and I asked her about the book. She stared and waited for a while. I apologise to her and said that it was okay if she was not comfortable telling us about it. She replied, for the last twenty five years I have been sitting here and nobody ever came to talk to me, just people gazing and leaving. Twenty five years! I was dumbstruck. She showed us her book where she had drawn a drawing of different scenes on the streets of Delhi. And I was stunned when I saw a drawing where she had drawn me and my friend, while we were talking with each other. The drawings were so realistic that one could actually see even a detailed line. I asked her about it, and she said that she drew the drawing in the evening. On asking her what she does with these drawings, she replied in the world full of selfish people, on these streets, my eyes find the people who are pure by heart and simplicity is their prized possession. My friend asked her that, ‘Does she make a earnings by these paintings’, she replied that, ‘she does what she loves and if she did it with the intention of earning money her art will not be the same’.! I thought she was pursuing her hobby and was so happy where as many of us have forgotten that we too had a hobby and stopped pursuing it. Maya was the kind of woman I had never met and may never find someone like her again. She looked normal, but beneath the facade resided a queen, strangely beautiful, perfectly flawed. We were worried and frustrated that after leaving from here by Kalka Mail to Ambala, from tomorrow we had to start our schedule of studying course books, and what not and here she was doing what she simply loved without any hesitation, but with pure bliss. We all had some or the other hobbies in our childhood, but as we grew older, we left behind our passion and hobbies. In my childhood I was collecting stamps & now at this age of sixty five years I am still collecting currency notes and coins of India and world.   

What I learnt from Maya is that all the wealth in the world cannot guarantee you a good night sleep. Wealth, property, people are temporary but what lasts is you and your karma. She said that, never forget life is a journey, not a destination, if it is meant to be, it will be ..! Maya was more than a miracle for me. She told us that she lost her whole family in a car accident when she was waiting for them at home to return. She had something to say but didn’t speak much. Deep down she was broken but still beautiful. I asked her, Mayaji,  are you alright? I will be, eventually, she replied.    As Gulzar Saheb once said, Milta Tu Bahut Kuch Hai Zindagi Mein, Bas, Hum Ginte Uski Karte Hain, Jo Haasil Na Ho Saka.