Vagaries……

A differently crowded Mumbai morning. Missing traffic snarls. Vacant trains. Silence of the cacophonies. Absence of the melodies. Something amiss? Ohh yeahhhh.. It’s a Saturday. Still the relentless energy pulses climbing the local trains were intact. Push-pull, pull-push. Excitement never subsides.

As usual the squatters sat in a disciplined line, displaying the frontal museum or their own “backdoors”. Rain as a natural flush they sit calm. I had my 18 pages of HT to go through. Yes!! My newspaper. Already the co-passenger had lent the page 3. A little gossip would do well. His eyes were sometimes popping out isn’t? Oddity in nudity. Letters or pictures? I chit chat to myself. I get into my next pastime. Opened the mobile front panel. Customary from my side to rake my brains and squeeze my fingers to set it back. The co-passenger was watching. He intervened. Did I like his freedom? Affirmative. ”Clip it first at top and it would be easier” – Advised taken. And lo!!! Words of gyan did work. So easy a task!!! What all did I do to set it trial and error. A small lesson added in the everyday texts of my calendar.

You travel by the same train, same route, same routine, yet have you ever realized that every split second in life is different. We don’t observe and complain monotony. Queer isn’t? The same lady on your street wears a different attire. The same vendor sells a special smile. The same newspaper portrays another charming story. Diversity.

People differ. Characters vary. Children grow. Maturity sets in. The routine continues as if you are keyed by a toy-seller. The hair upon your hair falls to gray. Noticed? It’s change. The absolute in permanence. Where you realize the misplaced vagaries and variety of life. We search. We condemn ourselves to the bygone.

The Hundred-thousand reflections in the saloon still ask me a 100, 000 more of unanswered questions. Am I doing what I have scripted above? The answer is I am not, though I am aware of a plain truth that life is short. Almost 19 years lost in the simplicities of infancy, childhood and teenage. As freedom sets in, the job begins. Then faces scorn at you. Why haven’t u tied the naughty knot? Initial enthusiasm. Then monotony. A few extramarital. Life is spiced for some. Salted for some. Still life snails. Ennui isn’t?

But can you rewind the clock to adjust the lost ages? Think of the second that you lost now in adversity and selfishness. Enjoy the petty fights you have. Take pleasure in the trivial. Value the insignificant. Forget and forgive. Laugh at it like an anecdote of the passing times. Break free from the fetters of narrow-mindedness. Laugh openly. Smile gently. Speak up and speak out. Don’t ever regret.
I thanked the man who helped me with my mobile. A smile I gifted. His cheeks reflected his dimple. Acknowledged. I left to catch my taxi.

The small girl at the red-yellow-green waits. The lights transform from the blinking yellow to red. Cars screech to a halt. 120 seconds of halt. She breezes past the open windows. Her hair sways to the cold wind. Her tiny hands are replete with the lemon-chilly combo. Averts ill luck. They believe. The tinted windows open. She sells more luck to the rich and the famous. Did it bring her any luck? Her destiny alone knows. Missing the tender age of childhood. She may be yearning to be like her clients kids dressed in school uniforms. She gets her share of the coins. If not luck she had her fortune. She smiles. I feel proud and happy for her. The man in the car never does. He has a lot to think. Business and money. Quotations and tenders.

Another man on the footpath sleeps unscathed. No blankets. Oblivious of the happenings. Ignorant of the world. Blaring horns never wake him. Is he drunk? NO, I notice his face. Serene. He has nothing to worry. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow is a dream. Today is awake like a gift and so we call it the present. He earns for today. He sleeps for now. No bank accounts. No fixed deposits. No tax calculations. No tensions.

Countdown begins…3-2-1. The light turns green. Engines roar in impatience. Cars surge faster than the rockets. My little gal’s eyes droop. She saves herself to the walkway. Waiting eagerly for the lights to turn red again. Maybe another unlucky passenger may turn lucky.I proceed. Single day. Innumerable experiences. Mumbai or Bombay. Madras or Chennai. I learn more of life, most from life.

Now am in my office. Forgetting every second that has gone. Head absorbed deep in those files of which I know nothing.I should change. My heart weeps and appeals. Will I? When will I? Who knows? Time will tell. Wait for me. I plead. The clock ticks faster. Am I falling far behind the race of life?