It was a rare sight. In fact, rarest of the rare I would like to call the entire episode, just like witnessing an eclipse as amateurs and professionals hail the celestial event with great bonhomie.
At a time when everything moves at a maddening pace and you find someone leisurely taking a stroll on the central business district of Bangalore, all you can do is to notice the phenomenon unveiling right in front of you.
I clearly remember the first time I saw him near ASC Centre and College in 2008. He was standing near the footpath, smoking a bidi, and his flowing grey mane caressed by the autumn breeze. He had a fixed smile, eyes looking somewhere at a distance, where probably we “normal” mortals can never reach. He was holding a jhola bag, his white T-shirt was almost brown as layers of dirt and grime accumulated in the passage of time. Completing his overall persona with his tattered jeans, he had that look from the rock-n-roll era of 80s.
I was pleasantly surprised, finding someone in busy Bangalore so lost in his own world. I thought he was a traveller who has accidentally stumbled on the city roads. I was sure he had set out for another destination, somewhere far, as far as the Thar Desert or Antarctica. He did not look like a native. The true inhabitants of a city are always cocksure souls. Their gait and posture always carry an aplomb. They can never be so unsteady and nervous.
Sitting in the bus, waiting for the traffic to get cleared, I was intently looking at him from the window. He had clearly noticed me. But, was smart enough to avoid me.
It did infuriate me. In a knee-jerk reaction, I decided to look at him more closely, trying to get that elusive eye-contact, to further our non-verbal conversation. In those few seconds, I succeeded. He looked back and smiled at me. I acknowledged his generosity as my bus moved ahead to the cacophony of city life. I tried to keep my gaze fixed at him till I lost sight of him.
Almost a week later, I saw him again. This time we met at the ever-crowded Majestic bus station. It was unexpected but I instantly recognised him. He was wearing the same clothes, but a brown cap resting on his head was an addition. He was sitting on a bench, sipping tea from a glass. As soon as I disembarked from the bus, I wanted to go near and greet him. But the crowd behind pushed me to a corner. By the time I could steady, he had already left the place. I searched for him for a while but I was in a hurry to catch another bus for another destination. So, I left but his sight haunted me throughout the day. I kept wondering, Who is this man?”No, no, he cannot be a traveller. Or else, by now, he would have left the city. Then, who’s he?
He looked so different. But still so common, almost maintaining his anonymity in the crowd. He had that look of a lunatic man who had probably run away from the asylum. Or, is he the urban monk, the legend of which I had read?
All he remained for me was an enigma, a bunch of unanswered queries. As time passed by, and cycle of season changed its moods, he too steadily faded out of my mind just like hundreds of unknown faces whom I encounter every day and immediately forget about them.
But there are coincidences and I do believe in them. Almost two years later, what I saw again proved me right once again. I saw him, standing right in front of me, as I was sifting through the pages of a biography of a successful business tycoon on an MG Road footpath stall.
“Don’t buy this. I bet you won’t enjoy the book,” he advised.
I could not agree with him more. But, to strike a conversation, I decided to disagree.
“He is one of India’s richest men, a rag-to-riches story. I am certain, it would be inspiring,” I replied.
“If you want to be rich, money-wise, then go ahead. I won’t stop you,” he smiled.
I looked at him. I was thinking how could he know what I was looking for? As if he had caught me lying to myself, trying to ape anyone and everyone to be accepted by the society at large.
“You should read what you enjoy the most. You don’t have to be somebody else. You’re beautiful in your own skin. Now, I have to go. Have a good-day.”
Once again he left me alone, as the crowd around swelled like a huge reptile devouring me into a deep dark pit. I was blind for a few seconds. Almost blind, I could see and locate nothing, but a vast road, somewhere in the unknown, waiting and telling me to embark on. I wanted to talk, ask so many questions to him. “Who are you? What do you do? Why are you so elusive?”
But, who could stop a wandering soul, the mild evening breeze crooned to me. “Let him go. In his journey lies the answers of life.”
If he belongs to abstraction of life, my reality too is nothing short than accepting the truth. I did not attempt to run after him (which I could have easily done). Rather I let him go. But I was sure he would come back, maybe after ages. Maybe then we would talk, strike a conversation when all my queries would be answered.
I returned to myself once again, trying not to think about him further. However, waves of thoughts kept hitting me, making me wet to the skin in the process.
“There are many pressing things to be addressed in life. Does a vagabond deserve so much of my attention and time?” I questioned.
My wandering mind did not comply with any of the profoundly popular logic or reasoning. I decided to let my mind take a walk where roads have no definite destinations. After all, it’s the journey that matters, destination is anyway guaranteed. What we encounter in a journey that matters. The surprises, difficulties, pain, hidden sorrow and joy, and ultimately the calmness that embraces you as you reach the destination you have been seeking so hard.
I wanted to enjoy the process of travelling for the time being. He did keep on frequenting my thoughts now and then. At times we would converse. Mostly, I would question him with my child-like curiosity, while he answered with lot of promises. His convincing answers would even make me belief in non-existent things. Though I know the thin line bordering the wall governing the realms of reality and dream, this time I decided to surrender myself to the unknown.
A state of hallucination always engulfed me and it never looked bad even when I did not meet him after that.
But, once in a while, he talks to me in his inimitable style. He sings to me, whispers incoherently, as always taking me by surprise.
“Your nomad is discovering new lands and places, and meeting lots of interesting people. I am sure you would have liked them too, like I am enjoying now. Do join me sometime. And yes, don’t be sad. I am here only, right beside you. The other day, when you saw the elderly man sitting in gay abandon in the empty bus bay, lost in his own thoughts, I was there too. I saw you, noticing the old man keenly. By now, I know you well. Your love for unnoticed and unattended things is quite profound. Perhaps that is why you have found me. Generally people don’t notice me, even when I stand right in front of them. You in a way discovered me in the midst of a crowd. Before I met you, I almost started believing that I have become non-existent, like the invisible man. You gave me visibility, and I am sure you too have re-discovered yourself once again through my prism.”
(If anyone of you ever comes across the wanderer described in the above post do inform me. I am desperately looking for him.)
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