Life's Twilight...

Pune weather is unpredictability personified. It can be humid in the morning, raining by mid morning, blazing hot in the afternoon, balmy in the evening and teeth-chattering cold by night. Yes, variety is the spice of life, so the weather Gods can be said to be biased in giving Pune-ites some extra spice to their everyday life. But the only problem is the choice of clothing. Oh no don’t worry, this is not about weather conditions or dressing tips, my blog won’t end up being THAT lame! Anyway, on the day I am writing about, I decided to wear a very smart synthetic kurti judging by the cloudy morning… But as the weather Gods would have it, the Sun came out in all its might by afternoon. So standing in the auto stand and cursing everything around me, especially the non-availability of AC cars when you live in hostels, I was pretty much oblivious to everything around me. Suddenly this short, stooped and aged lady in a navari saree murmered something to me. I couldn’t catch what she said in my first go so I bent down to her level and extended my ear. This time I heard her words. “Majha konich nahi aahe…” (I have no one). And I, the proud student of ILS, the person with the mindset that lawyers have smart replies for every statement, stood there, motionless, dumbfounded…
Oxford Dictionary cannot probably come up with a word for describing how exactly I felt that moment. What do you say at such a statement? Do you ask her where she lives, what she wants or is there anything you can do for her? Do you assure her that her family or kids or someone will come for her? Do you call up someone and ask for help? Whom do you call? Or do you end up giving fake assurance that you are there for her whereas you know point-blank that you’ll leave as soon as you get an auto? Do you try and talk about what’s wrong with her? Or do you brush her off, thinking of her as yet another case of senility on the loose? Or do you, like me, just act like you don’t really understand the language and wait till she goes away?
What do we all think when we picture our future? I cannot possibly write for the enlightened souls, but I picture myself as a successful lawyer… gifting my Dad his fave MacBook and Mom all those fabulous jewelry she sets her eyes on at Tanishq… marrying a smart, intelligent, sensitive, funny and cute guy… having a beautiful child, my own flesh and blood… growing old, retiring from work and teaching Criminal Law at some big shot University. It is amusing how I never think of how much can go wrong in my plan. I always consider my plan to be flawless… and why not? I’ve carefully calculated the age for everything and figured out how everything is going to turn out. But I never think that I have based every shred of planning on the simple assumption that life is going to be kind to me. Now that I think of it, how can I be so foolish, so juvenile? I so proudly claim that I’m 19 now; coming to an end of my teens and my hostel life has made me all practical and mature. Mature? Hasn’t 19 years of life not taught me anything? Life is never kind… it’s never good… it’s never perfect… and most importantly, it never ever goes according to what you plan! But here I am, happily in my make-believe world, my fool’s paradise, believing that if your plan is perfect, that is how your life will end up as well. It is scary to think about it even now, but I might just end up as that lady on the road. How come this thought never even crossed my mind?
Am I ashamed of what I did that fateful day? Yes, I sure am. But I still can’t fathom what else I could have done. All I feel is that I wish I could do something more substantial, more meaningful. And I also can’t stop wondering what happened to her… how she ended up wherever she is today. I can’t stop thinking where her husband and children are and why they’ve abandoned the lady. I so hope I could have done something… anything for her. You may think that this is India, hundreds of such abandoned ladies are probably hovering aimlessly on the roads. True… very true. But not every one of them come and tell me, “Majha konich nahi aahe”…
I am very sorry I couldn’t do anything for you. I just remember you in my prayer. And I’ve never more strongly hoped that my prayers are heard…