Imprints of Hope

     The city of Bangalore was at its peak-hour, but nothing could stop Saaji from navigating through the pockets of space in the traffic. He rode towards Tin Factory in search of customers who would book his bike taxi. It was sunny, with a cool breeze blowing the sweat off his neck. By the time he rode from Baiyappanahalli to Tin Factory, his coffee-brown shirt had a root-like pattern of sweat formed on his back. His yellow helmet in the sun helped him get noticed, but not enough to earn a fare. It seemed no one was interested in booking a bike taxi today.

Taking a break from his search for his Sahachari (fellow traveler)—that’s what he called his customers—Saaji stopped under a metro pillar to have some water. He noticed the people around him, waiting for buses. The buses were getting crowded with workers ready to hustle through their day. It was a painfully funny sight for him when an electric bus stopped at the bus stop. On the side of the electric bus, it said “Let Our City Breathe.” The irony struck him—the people outside the bus could breathe better than those inside it.

The sound of his riding app notification pulled him out of his thoughts. He wiped his salty beard and accepted the ride request. It was a ride to Eco Space, Bellandur, from Phoenix Market City Mall, Whitefield. As Saaji left Tin Factory and headed toward Phoenix Mall, the wind hit his face. For a moment, it felt like a force field, transporting him to the future—a future where his six-year-old daughter, smiled at him, growing into a strong woman who would make him proud. He was pulled out of this beautiful daydream as he reached Phoenix Mall. He picked up his passenger, gave an helmet and began his ride to Eco Space.

Saaji juggled various jobs—he was a porter, a food delivery man, and more. As soon as he reached Eco Space, another delivery request popped up, this time for a café in Koramangala. The customer had ordered a café latte and French toast from a small café called “Just Loaf.” Saaji had a friend in Koramangala who worked at a bookshop near the café, so he decided to meet him and grab something to eat while waiting for the food to be ready.

He reached early and met his friend, Venky, at the bookshop called “In Touch.” The name itself was a commentary on the modern world, which, in Saaji’s opinion, was often out of touch with the physical experience of book shopping, with everything now available online. Venky sat behind Saaji and asked, “Yellig hogonvo?” (Where shall we go?).

Saaji replied, “Veerayodharavana park.”

“Aaythu nadi” (Okay, let’s go), said Venky.

They walked to the park and sat on a bench. Saaji looked at Venky and asked, “Venky hosdaagi ethu pusthakam odichu?” (Venky, which book did you read recently?).

Venky, with a smile on his face, answered, “Saaju, namm Jayant Kaikini avr Toofan Mail odide kano, Sakkath aagide” (Saaji, I read Jayant Kaikini’s book Toofan Mail, it’s awesome).

Saaji smiled and asked, “Give it to me if you get a second-hand copy; I’ll give it to my daughter.”

“Okay,” Venky said.

They sat in silence, eating the pulao Saaji had packed in his tiffin, looking at the trees in the park. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting long rays that created streaks of light. The peace of the moment lasted until the park keeper started using the blower to clear the leaves off the ground. The dust flew up, catching the light, making it shimmer like tiny stars caught in a breeze.

“If only our lives were this sparkly,” Venky murmured, watching the dust shimmer in the air.

Saaji kept his hand on Venky’s shoulder and said, “Ellām okayākum” (Everything will be fine).

Venky nodded, replying softly, “Houdu” (Yes), and placed his hand on Saaji’s.

Both of them got up and left for their respective work. Saaji delivered the food, completed several rides, and eventually made his way back home.

He stayed near HAL, in a home made from scraps, tucked away in an unauthorized settlement. The walls creaked whenever a jet flew overhead, and it seemed like it could fall apart at any moment—a testament to the uncertainty of his life. Yet, the certainty of his life stood outside, waiting for him: Sama, his daughter. The six-year-old stood there in her yellow dress with a smiley on it. As soon as Saaji stopped, she ran towards him, eager to hold his hand.

With a soft voice, Sama asked, “Achha, yenaka ice-cream vanum?” (Dad, I want ice cream).

Saaji smiled and replied, “Mole, ippom athu edukkaam!” (Child, let’s get it now). He gently placed Sama’s monkey cap on her head, and together, they walked towards HAL to get the ice cream.

As they walked, they passed a wet concrete footpath in front of the HAL campus. Saaji paused and looked down at the fresh, smooth surface. He motioned for Sama to step onto it, watching as her small footmarks left an imprint. Looking up at the sky, where a jet flew by, he said, “Someday, Samu, you will be flying that plane. And from here, where your footprints are stamped, I will call out, ‘Mole, ice cream veno?’ (Hey, child, do you want ice-cream?).”

He smiled to himself, imagining the future where his little girl would soar above the clouds, her dreams taking flight just as he hoped.

P.S. Sama means sky in Arabic.

*Your feedback and support are what make me a better writer and bring out the best in me. So do correct me if I am wrong, and don’t forget to share your thoughts in the comment section.

Darshan Shanbhag

Starry Bonds: Srimayi's Journey

Srimayi was a young woman who loved herself more than anyone else in the world. She carried a contagious smile; her eyes had everything that would make anyone fall for her. She was from Coorg, a heavenly place with greenery all around and an abundance of tea and coffee. She lost her mother when she was young; her father (Vasisth urf Vasi) did everything to keep her from missing her mother. They had an estate of their own, which also had a guest house for the tourists. With the place always filled with a different set of people, she was exposed to different parts of the world, and she learned about a variety of things, from different languages to different lifestyles. Whenever a tourist used to leave the place, she asked them for something that would remind her of them, like a souvenir, and they used to give her something or another, and she used to keep them in her safe (which was her mom’s trunk) with each and everyone's name label stapled to the item.

 

There came a time when she had to leave her father and Coorg; she wanted to get out of this small world she lived in and experience living in a new place. Srimayi's father had a friend in Bengaluru; her name was Arundati, and she had her own advertising company. So Srimayi's father requested that his friend give Srimayi a job in her company. Arundati was happy to have Srimayi, and she also insisted Srimayi stay with her as she was alone and would love to have company. Everything went well, and Srimayi shifted to Bengaluru, a place where life moves fast but traffic is still there.

 

Day 1: Srimayi woke up early and made bed coffee for Arundati. Arundati asked her to sit beside her, and taking a sip of coffee, she moved her hand on Srimayi's head and said, "You are just like your father." Srimayi was confused about whether that meant she looked like her father or if it was the gesture of making coffee for her that made Arundati think so. Arundati snapped Srimayi out of her confused state, asked her to get ready to go to the office, and told her that she would prepare breakfast. With all these new things happening in her life, Srimayi found a mother in Arundati, and Arundati had a daughter she never had. Both of them reached the office five minutes before the actual time.

 

People started coming to the conference room as there was supposed to be a meeting with the team, and it started with introducing Srimayi to all the team members. The meeting was about planning a new ad for an insurance company, and it was led by Dhyan. Dhyan was a young man in his mid-20s with a passion for storytelling. In the meeting, Arundati introduced Srimayi to everyone. Arundati asked Srimayi to assist Dhyan in his insurance company assignment. The meeting ended, and all of them went to their spaces, and Srimayi followed Dhyan to his cabin.

 

Srimayi: Hello Sir.

 

Dhyan: Hey, Srimayi, right?

 

S: Yes, sir.

 

D: Don’t call me sir; call me Dhyan.

 

S: Sure, Dhyan.

 

So they talked about where she came from and how she ended up here, and then Dhyan asked her to give her ideas on the insurance ad they were going to work on. He also called his team for a brainstorming session. Everyone started pitching in their ideas, and after some time, the session ended. As the team left, Dhyan asked Srimayi if she would have coffee with him. She agreed, and they went to the cafeteria. Her day went well. While coming back from the office, Arundati asked Srimayi how it was, your work, and the new people around. She replied, “It was great.”.

 

The days went by, and the bond between Arundati and Sri became much stronger, as did Sri’s friendship with her colleagues. On weekends, her colleagues used to visit her place, which was also their boss's place, to chill, cook food, watch movies, and have fun. With them, Arundati felt young; she reminisced about her college days and recalled how she and her friends went to one of their friends’s farmhouses to enjoy. On one such weekend, everyone asked Arundati to share her favorite memory from her past. She was so close to them by now that she decided to share the story of the proposal. Everyone sat down, while Arundati sat on the couch with her legs folded.

To be continued...

*Your feedback and support are what make me a better writer and bring out the best in me. So do correct me if I am wrong, and don’t forget to share your thoughts in the comment section.

Darshan Shanbhag

Mesh Faced Boy

                 A house filled with windows and windows covered with mesh compared the boy to his body and heart. The boy’s parents worked hard every day to make sure their child got everything they didn’t have in their childhood, but that came at the cost of them not spending time with the boy.The boy’s routine was to wake up, go to school, come back home, have lunch, go to tuition, and come back home in the evening. Home alone in the evenings, he sought his happiness with the help of the windows in his house.

Windows! What a wonderful idea that man or woman came up with! Windows are more than an OS and a wooden frame with mini doors. What it does is give you hope and become a companion when you need one.When Led Zeppelin wrote “Stairway to Heaven,” they must have all sat near a window. The boy also felt the same when he sat near the window; it was as if he were peeking into a new world within the world he lived in.The birds chirping had a story to tell; the trees moving when the wind hit them looked like they were dancing in joy; and the sunlight through the window mesh became the boy’s mask, giving him a new identity in this new world. And all this beauty through the window had audio too, where the old couple in the neighbourhood, a couple who were metalheads, played songs by Guns N’ Roses in the evening that went perfectly with all that was beyond the mesh, especially the song Sweet Child O’ Mine.

The boy is a 25-year-old man now; with the earphones on, he plays Sweet Child O’ Mine, sits near the window, inhales the view, syncopates the sound of nature with his breath, and writes this short story.

She’s got a smile that, it seems to me,

Reminds me of childhood memories, 

Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky…

Whoa, oh, oh, 

Sweet child o’ mine

Whoa, oh, oh, oh, 

Sweet love of mine

~The Boy

Nachtvlinders : Night Moths

Just Fiction

Evening time.

"Hi, I am Arth," I said as I introduced myself to my roommates.

I am an engineer, and I am on a work trip to Germany. This was my first time outside India, so I wanted to explore Germany, starting with Munich, the place where beer runs in everyone’s veins. I booked my stay in a hostel in Munich, as that was the cheapest option available. I did not want to spend too much on my stay; instead, I wanted to spend more on experiences. Also, it meant I would get to meet new people, which I eventually did; I met Bieke and Chris. Bieke was Dutch, and Chris was American. In the list of foreigners I had met, I had people from Sweden and Germany; people from the Netherlands and America just got added. Once I was done introducing myself and telling them why I was here, Bieke and Chris did the same, and I got to know why they were here. Chris was interning with the "History Channel", so he was in Munich to document the lives of tour guides in Europe. He told me he came here from Paris, where he started his journey documenting the lives of tour guides. Bieke was a mixologist (a cocktail expert) who had come here in search of work from Amsterdam. We talked for a while and got to know each other better.

Chris had booked a beer brewery crawl experience and invited us to join him. We freshened up and got ready to explore Munich, its people, food, and beer. Bieke was wearing a white, sleeveless crop top and a beige skirt. Chris and I were wearing black T-shirts, but he was wearing chinos, and I was wearing blue jeans. We walked to the place where we were supposed to meet our tour guide, who would take us to different breweries. The guide was waiting for us, along with a few other members who would join us. We reached there and met our guide, "Dan," and other members, who were all from America. Dan asked us to make a circle around him and explained what we would be doing for the next few hours. We took the S-Bahn and reached our first brewery, named ‘Paulaner Brauhaus.’ The only beer I tried before was Kingfisher, but when I tried Paulaner beer, it tasted different; it had hints of pineapple and mango and had the perfect balance of bitterness and sweetness. Chris asked immediately after taking a sip if anyone was ready to do a bottoms-up challenge with him, to which Dan and Bridget agreed; Bridget was one of the members. Everyone started shouting, "Chug, chug, chug." Chris, Dan, and Bridget started to drink their beer, with Chris spilling most of it out, but surprisingly, Bridget was the one to finish the beer first, and Dan was the last one to finish. Dan’s mustache was covered by the beer froth; he looked closer to Santa Claus than Dan himself. We all shared a laugh, ate pommes (French fries), and finished our beer.

Next, we were going to a very old brewery named ‘Augustiner.’ It was closer to "Paulaner Brauhaus," so we walked to that place, but before we left for Augustiner, Dan made pairs in the group so that we did not get lost while walking through the crowd. I was paired with Bridget, and Bieke and Chris were paired together. We reached there, and luckily there was a table already booked for us. The interesting part about that table set-up was that they had replaced the chairs with barrels in which they stored beer. The glasses here were bigger than the ones we had at Paulaner. They were almost the size of my forearm, and I was scared I would get high once I had it, which I eventually did. Bridget snapped her fingers in front of me and asked, "What are you staring at? Come on, drink it." Then we both started drinking and eating pretzels that were kept in front of us. That was the first time I had pretzels, and they tasted so damn good. They looked like pigs’ noses, and I kept one against my nose and started snorting and grunting like a pig. By then, I was a bit high, and for some reason, I felt free—free from judgment, free from all inhibition.

We all somehow managed to finish the huge glass of beer, and we were tired and needed some fresh air, so we came out and walked towards this giant red ring structure, which was in an open space. It was called Der Ring, a structure in Old Munich. There were a few people there, sitting on their camping chairs and listening to music. Bridget, Chris, Bieke, and I started dancing to the music (I Shazamed and found the name of the song: "Een Klien Beetje Geluk" by Ali B). It was crazy; we were all sweating and clearly out of breath, which was totally opposite to our idea of getting some fresh air. But it was an experience I will never forget—the girls swaying their hair, we guys opening our tongues, almost creating a Naagin dance of our own. Finally, we stopped and sat on the ground next to the people who were camping there. Dan shouted from far away and asked us to join him for the last brewery on our planned tour, but we decided to explore the nightlife of the city instead and asked Dan to leave with the others. We walked around and found people painting graffiti on the walls. We joined them and spray-painted the walls. The place was lit with green light, and the art on the walls looked amazing. I suggested we leave a mark of us on the wall and asked one of the graffiti artists there to trace our shadows on the wall with spray paint, on which we wrote "Freie Seelen," which means "Free Souls" in German.

We were tired of walking, so we went to an open park full of trees. It was a beautiful sight. As we lay down on the ground side by side, staring at the night sky, a light breeze swept over us, which felt good. As I was sleepy and had planned a trip to Austria the next day, I asked Chris and Bieke if we could leave. Bieke agreed to come with me, but Chris wanted to stay there for some more time, so Bridget and Chris stayed.

Bieke and I took the S-Bahn to the nearest station to our stay and walked to our hostel room. Throughout our walk, she held my hand and kept her head on my shoulder. We walked into our room, and I sat on my bed. Bieke played music on her phone (Nachtvlinder by Bokoesam started playing). Bieke started grooving to it; she was feeling the beats make their way through her body. Her half-tied hair and half-messed-up bun started falling apart, forming various strands that slowly started invading her face, and that is when I entered the scene.

The air was intoxicated with the smell of beer, and the moonlight through the huge windows filled our hostel room, creating a gloomy film around us. I tucked the lock of her hair over her ear to see her face and found her staring at me with her deep blue eyes. We sat there in silence, and just when I was about to say something, she kissed me. The touch of her lips on mine sent shivers down my spine. It was magical, the most memorable experience I had in Munich.

We broke the kiss and stared at each other for a moment, both feeling the electricity in the air. Without saying a word, we lay down on the bed, held each other's hands, and drifted off to sleep.

Love Germany

 

 -Darshan Shanbhag 

Find my stories here: https://shanbhaaag.blogspot.com/ 

 

 

Gopi

*To make the reading experience better listen to the song “Unnoda Vazha” by Anna Katharina while reading. 

With “Unnoda Vazha” by Anna Katharina playing in his ears, Dhyan starts his walk towards the park; he tries to jump on the Hopscotch squares that filled the road in front of his rented flat like a stuck Tetris game. While he crosses the main road, he comes across this beautiful house named "Akashaganga." He stops and sees the cage filled with birds and fish in the aquarium outside the house. With the right colour combination and perfect plants, the house had its exterior aesthetics set right. While gazing through the wavy patterns on the walls, Dhyan saw a brown thing move on the balcony; that brown thing was none other than a playful golden retriever with beautiful amber eyes, and exactly at that moment the lines "Unn Kannil vaazhgiren" from the song playing in his ears peaked. Dhyan waved his hands, and the dog started barking, to which its owner, a woman in her mid-40s, came out to the balcony. She saw Dhyan, and suddenly her face changed from being annoyed by the dog's bark to a mix of shock and blank face. Looking at her expression, Dhyan thought he shouldn’t stand there anymore and continued his walk towards the park.

 

Since his last encounter with the dog; Dhyan, everytime he crossed that house looked at the balcony, and waited for that beautifully shaped fur ball to appear. But he failed every time. One day, when Dhyan was crossing the house with no hope of seeing that dog, a bark of happiness filled his ears, and a smile spread across his face. Dhyan looked up to the balcony and found the dog jumping around, looking at him. There was a man in his late 40s with the dog, asking it to calm down. Dhyan waved at the man and asked, "Hi uncle, what’s the dog’s name?" He replied that his name is "Gopi." Dhyan smiled and started calling "Gopiiii…. Gopiii" "Gopiii." Then Gopi started barking and jumping around even more. Suddenly, he ran inside the house and got his squeaky bone toy; Uncle saw that and told Dhyan he wants to play with you, come up. Dhyan got excited. He ran and took the stairs to the balcony. On the way, he said hi to all the birds that were chirping in the cage. He reached the balcony, and Gopi didn’t even wait for Dhyan to catch his breath; he straight away jumped on him. Gopi was one and a half years young, and with his tail waging like a helicopter, he was filled with lots of bouncy energy. His fur looked like a wave of mud with an anime filter. He got down soon and ran towards his toy bone and got it to Dhyan. Uncle told Dhyan to throw it, but he didn't; instead, he sat down on his knees and placed it on the back of his neck, and Gopi just jumped on his back and held the bone in his mouth. Uncle smiled and reached a level of happiness where his eyes where moist; It was only time it would have turned into drops of tears, he shouted "Sudha! Ill ba, nodu Gopi yen maadtidaane ("Sudha! Come here, look what Gopi is doing"), and a woman from inside came out drying her hands with a towel, saying "Yen ri?" (What?)" She sees Gopi on Dhyan’s back and starts laughing and says, "Yen maadthidiya Gopi Akshu benn mele?" (What are you doing on Akshu’s back, Gopi?) And then she looks at Dhyan’s face and realises that it was not Akshu; all of a sudden, she gives the same blank expression that Dhyan saw on her face the day he saw Gopi for the first time. Listening to the name “Akshu” from his wife’s mouth made the upward curve on uncle’s face lose the lift on the either ends resulting in a downward curve, he somehow pulled the ends and with a serious tone said "Sudha, avn namm Akshu alla (Sudha, he is not our Akshu)". Sudha Aunty took a short breath and asked Dhyan, "Yenappa ninn hesaru?” (“Son, What is your name?”) Dhyan replied, "Nann hesar Dhyan, aunty," (“My name is Dhyan, aunty” ) and she continued with a fusillade of questions like, "Where are you from?" What do you do? Where do you stay? Seeing aunty ask so many questions, Uncle stopped her and told her, "Sudha avnig mane wallag aadru kursi maatadsu (Sudha, at least let him sit inside and then you can continue with your questions."

 

 

Dhyan sat on the sofa, uncle and aunty sat on the chair, uncle asked Dhyan, "Do you want some water?" to which Dhyan replied, "No, uncle." Gopi slept on the carpet with his doll, which Dhyan later got to know was called "Twinkle." Sudha aunty looks at Dhyan, smiling at Gopi, and says, "He played with Akshu like he played with you today and slept with Twinkle beside him." Dhyan smiled and replied, "Is it?" Then he went on to ask, "By the way, aunty, who is Akshu?"

Then Uncle replied with a low voice, "He’s our son Akash; we called him Akshu," and Aunty continued, "You look like him." Dhyan asks, "Where is he now?" "What is he doing?" Uncle replied, "He left us last year." Dhyan replies, "Sorry, uncle, aunty." All three share a moment of silence. Aunty breaks the silence by asking Dhyan, "You drink coffee or tea?" Dhyan replies, "No, Aunty, I don’t want anything; I will leave now; I have to go for a walk." Listening to the word "walk," Gopi gets up and starts being Gopi. Aunty asks Dhyan, "Can you also take Gopi with you?" Dhyan replies, "Yes, aunty." Sudha aunty attaches the leash to Gopi’s collar, and Uncle and Gopi go for a walk with Dhyan.

 

Do you let me know how you felt after reading.

Also, if you liked this; please read my other blogs & stories too.

-Darshan Shanbhag  

The Walk of Cats

EXT NIGHT

29 December 2022: After having dinner at a Japanese restaurant, Anne and D, along with their friends, are going back to their Airbnb stay in Chennai. They decided to walk back to the stay because it was close by.Anne and D’s friends suggest they order ice cream before they start walking so that by the time they reach the Airbnb, the ice cream is already there. So everyone orders the ice cream flavours that they like and have never tried before and starts walking towards the Airbnb.

Anne and D walk together in front, with their couple friends behind them.

D wanted to ask a question that had been circling his curious mind since the day Anne told him she liked cats. As D was a dog person and didn’t get a chance to understand or experience how it feels to be with cats, he asks Anne:

 

D: Hey Anne, I have a question for you.

 

Anne: Go ahead.

 

D: Why do you like cats?

 

Anne: Cats, that’s an interesting question.

 

D: Hmm.

 

Anne: Actually, I used to hate cats.

 

D: Interesting, then?

 

Anne: There’s a story behind it.

 

D: Accha!

 

Anne: Haan. So a few months ago, I saw a kitten on the road that had been abandoned by its mother. I don’t know what made her do that. But yeah, I saw this kitten. It was injured in places while trying to move out of the waste thrown around it. It was white and bright. It looked as if a pearl had emerged from a dustbin. Lying near an electric pole, it cried for help. My friends and I brought it to our PG. That’s also an interesting story.

 

D: Ohhh! I am all ears.

 

Anne: So we brought the cat to the PG, but no pets were allowed there. (Anne giggles.)  Then what we did was wrap the kitten in a shawl and put it in our backpack. Everything was set except for the part where the cat might purr and the warden would get alerted. And that is when my genius comes in. I started watching some cat videos on YouTube and walked towards my room with my roommate and the kitty in my backpack.

 

D: hahaha. Are you serious?

 

Anne: Yes, it felt like I was on a mission like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible.

 

D: Wah! My Ethan hunt; aur uske baad?

 

Anne: Uske baad kya, we entered the room and kitten ko bahar nikaala.

 

D:Accha!

 

Anne: Haanji. Till that particular moment, I hated cats, but the cute cat changed my mind; he was so happy after we cleaned his wounds and looked after him.

 

D: He’s a HE.

 

Anne: Yes, a he. He used to follow me around the room. He slept on the window sill at night, and by the time it was morning, he would be on the bed, sleeping near my head. I would see a zoomed-in and blurred version of his tiny paws as I opened my eyes every morning. Acting like a head heater, he had become my everything for a few days. We decided to take him to the shelter, and later he found a home. I was very happy for him.

 

D: Oh! Did you meet him recently?

 

Anne: No,(taking a brief pause)I can’t. He is dead.

 

D: (*shocked*) What happened? How?

 

Anne: So he fell from the balcony of his home and .

 

D: (*D interrupts) That’s sad.

 

Anne: Anyways, that is how I met him and started liking cats, and whenever I see cats around, I get excited.

 

D: Yes, I have seen that excitement of yours whenever you see or talk about cats. By the way, did you name him?

 

Anne: Yes, I named him "Hope." He came into my life at a point where I needed that the most, and his entry gave me new hope. But once he went to his other home, the one who took care of him named him "Moon."

 

D: Oh! I see.

 

Anne: There was another cat there too, where Moon found his home. Here, look at this—this is him (Anne turns on her phone and shows a picture of Hope/Moon).

 

D: He's so cute! (🥹D’s face at that moment)

 

Anne: I know, right!

 

D: Yes, by the way, what is it that you liked about Hope?

 

Anne: Like?

 

D: I can give you an example: "Do you know Dhruv Sehgal?"

 

Anne: No.

 

D: Have you watched the show Little Things?

 

Anne: I have, but only a few episodes.

 

D: Great! So the hero of the show is Dhruv Sehgal, who is also the writer of the show.

 

Anne: Oh.

 

D: Yes, So he was asked in an interview that why did he like cats? And he told that they are mysterious.

 

Anne: Oh! So in that way, I like just the way they are and the little things they do.

 

D: Oh, I think you know this—that cats gift their caretakers a gift like fish or anything else they find and can carry in their mouth.

 

Anne: Yes, I do know this.

 

D: Hmm! (D smiles and, in his mind, thinks about the beautiful walk and conversation he just had.)

 

*Abhi Na Jao Chhoda Kar playing in the background

(Both reach the stay and disperse to their rooms)

-Darshan Shanbhag

Window Connection

 The dark night started to fade into different shades of orange when I got off the overnight bus I took from Dandeli to come back to Bengaluru. It was somewhere around 5:45 a.m. when I reached Bengaluru, and with a backpack and two handbags full of clothes, I walked towards the Kempegowda Bus Station. There I saw a bus to Ramamurthy Nagar waiting for me; the driver was revving the engine as if about to race, which he eventually did and came in first as there was no competition. I got into the bus, scanned the QR code to validate my pass, and took the window seat.

 

After a while, a few other passengers got in, and the much-anticipated race started. As the bus moved forward, its windows vibrated, creating a sense of music our teeth create on a winter morning, and that is when I heard someone singing, not so clearly but close to a whisper in a silent room. After concentrating hard on that voice, I found out that it was none other than the old man sitting in front of me; he was wearing a green and white striped woollen monkey cap and had wrapped himself in a grey shawl. I couldn’t see his face, but the extension of his spectacles made a good foreground on the cap he was wearing. The swift movement of the bus on the few good roads in Bengaluru helped intensify his voice a bit, which helped my ears identify the song he was singing. The song he was singing was "Chhu kar mere mann ko Kiya tuney kya ishaara." It felt like he was missing his special someone, and it was evident in his voice. After singing few lines he paused for a while and I felt it was my duty to keep Kishore Kumar vibe alive in the bus at this hour, so I started singing with a mellow voice trying to match the Old man’s voice "Kehna hai, Kehna hai, aaj tumse a Pehli baar o o o tumhi toh laayi o Jeevan may mere.." and the old man started moving his head it was like an approval from him. I ended up singing the few lines I knew, and the vibe we created continued to fill the air of near silence inside the bus, and its cradle-like movement just synced with our voices. Then he sang "Roopa Tera Mastaana" to which I replied with the song dear to my father, "Neele Neele ambar par." As my singing ended, we both sat quietly for a while, and I started observing him. He had a black backpack, and I too had one with me at the same time. I wondered if he was my older version who had travelled back in time to this very moment. My thoughts just started to build up, but the bus stopped; it was the old man’s stop.

 

He took his backpack and got down, and while getting down, he gave me a look with a smile as if we knew each other before. He was wearing specs with high-powered glass, and I could see the colour of his eyes clearly. Maybe this short journey was meant to be.

Thank you for reading.

Darshan Shanbhag

P.S. My brain played the song “Ore manwa tu toh bawara hai” while writing this.