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| Harmony |
By:
Valmiki Ghosh |
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A man and a woman—both blind-- were singing in a local train running to the
please?
One could see a lot of them ambling into the compartments even at the peak hours,
seeking money from the daily commuters. Sometimes they seek money after finishing
what they believe to be a short music session, while on other occasions they go on
crooning the tunes and asking money, both activities taking place simultaneously. The
daily commuters had grown accustomed to their presence, like a long married couple,
who had taken each other’s presence for granted.
There was another facing the door of the compartment, pounding a small drum with
great relish and satisfaction. He was blind too.
A young man at the back of the compartment was reading a newspaper tilted upward,
covering his face. He wanted to avoid looking at the blind couple who, by this time, came
near him seeking money. He didn’t respond, as if he hadn’t seen them. The blind
couple preferred to hang around.
There was a married couple looking very sullen. It looked they hadn’t talked to each
other for quite some time. The girl now got the opportunity to break into a conversation
with her husband: ‘ Could you give them something?’—she enquired. The man gave her
a vacant look, took out his purse, and reluctantly offered them two coins. The train passed
very quickly a row of thatches on either side. The blind couple started crooning the same
song again and waded through the passage between the rows of seats to move on to the
other side. The train slowed down and stopped at a station. The drummer squatting at the
door smiled as he felt the couple pegging away from him. They, too, smiled at him.
Very soon they were joined by four more at the other end of the compartment. The young
man looked from over the fringe of his newspaper to see the group assembled at the other
side of the compartment .He folded his paper and decided to look through the open,
corroded window eaten up hugely by rust. It was very hot and humid. His eyes stopped
at the girl sitting opposite to him by the window.
She felt a little uncomfortable, and said something to her husband who growled: ‘ I’m
already through your cackling.’
‘But you started it, after all’, the girl said.
‘ That’s exactly what I’m saying. Let’s us go back to where it all began’—
demanded the husband.
The girl mumbled something, feeling a little embarrassed, her face tilted to her left
facing the window. A slight twitch of her eyelash made her realise that the young man
sitting opposite was trying to pry into her. She moved a little closer to her husband, who
sat as before, reading a book. He was a tough looking fellow, heavy with a big face, and
he held the book more tightly as he felt his wife edging towards him. The young man
once again opened the abandoned newspaper, like a boy, picking up a previously
discarded game.
The compartment became noisy. People blabbered. A group playing cards in a corner
shouted at regular intervals.
A hawker managed to plod through the crowd that had gathered by this time in front of
the door at either side. The hawker felt grouchy as he made his way into the passage
carrying a basket of apples on his head, which he yanked down immediately. A woman,
dressed elegantly, recoiled in pain as the basket hit her left foot.
The hawker pleaded his helplessness and shouted at the crowd: ‘ Don’t miss the golden
opportunity. Each one is sweet and juicy, guar…anteed; if not, no payment. Just
have a taste sitting from where you’re.’ He looked around, wanting to include as many
people in his angle of vision, and shouted again: ‘ Only a half of this will turn you
all chubby- cheeked and the skin glowing, like the stars of both Bollywood and
Hollywood.’
The young man who had the newspaper spread out before him retorted:
‘Ah, it must be the fruit of the forbidden tree! No one should eat it, then.’ The
hawker, not willing to be vanquished easily, shouted:
‘ A licensed hawker, Sir! Doing business many year together.’
The young man put on a smirk on his face.
Not sensing any response, the hawker wanted to try his luck at the other side of
the compartment, where the group of blind men and women were yelling. This time they
were joined by a woman with vision. The drummer hadn’t moved off from his
place at the door, though he was regularly cursed by others trying to reach the
handles above to keep balance.
Meanwhile, another hawker selling a very special item entered. He was blowing off a
small round thing every now and then, pressed between his lips. Each time he blew off,
a baby screaming ‘baba—ba—ba, mamma –ma—ma’ was heard, followed by a
vociferous howl. All attention fell on him; everyone was eager to find out the trick
employed in using the ingenious, wondrous item. The other hawker, waiting for his turn,
looked idly outside the door. The train had halted for signal. There was a level crossing
at this spot. They knew it by heart.
The commuters felt overwhelmed at the baby that was whooping out endlessly,
but remained unseen throughout. Men and women laughed out, women in particular.
Two girls in their early twenties felt embarrassed and pretended to ignore the man
playing his item. One of the girls had a boyfriend who became quite excited and stood
up from his seat to get a look at the man. The girl pulled him by the hand asking him to
sit down quietly.
The hawker felt elated at the response he was receiving and slipped into the other end
of the compartment, making way for his companion. Finding the couple, the hawker
stopped and started blowing his item with renewed energy.
The young man felt amused and looked at the girl from the fringe of his
newspaper. The grouchy husband was still busy reading his book. The girl smiled as
she heard the yelling ‘baba—ba—ba, mamma ma—a—a.’ The train started moving now.
The girl looked at the young man, then away outside the window to her left.
Their eyes met for the first time. The husband closed his book with a thud, and looked
to his right. By choosing this neutral engagement, he couldn’t avoid looking at
the hawker. The sound of a baby crying seemed awfully distracting to him. The girl,
once again desiring to break the ice, pleaded:
‘ Why don’t you enjoy it? It’s so wonderful! Buy me one—will you,
sharp quizzing eyes.
‘But I’m going to have it this time’—her eyes looked defiant, and she
seemed to be speaking from a long way away.
‘Baba-bah-mamma-ma-a-ma-a’—the blabbering continued.
The train slowed down as it lurched into the platform. But even before people could get
down, there was a rush to get in.
The platform was awfully crowded. People had to wade through. The group of blind
men followed the woman with vision, each placing his hand on the shoulder of another
ahead of him. The young girl lumbered along, following her husband. |
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