This may not interest all, but something unusual happened yesterday. I met a person: dark complexioned, 5feet 6inch tall, having two beautiful children and a gorgeous looking wife, I met a stranger!
To tell you more about this, let me recapitulate an incident which happened with me two months back.
It was 26th of February, 2010 and I was headed to Vasant Kunj via bus route 764 with my friends Prashant Mital and Abhinav Yadav. We took the bus from NSIT bus stand (Dwarka) and occupied the last row seats of the bus. We talked about our colleges, our falling grades, girls and alcohol. After about ten minutes, there was some commotion in the bus. A completely drunk person boarded the bus and came to sit with us. He was talking to himself in an angry tone and murmuring words which only he could understand. After continuing all this for sometime, he realized we were sitting next to him and giving him more-than-needed attention. So, he started talking to us.
Kahan se ho bhai?
None of us bothered to reply, mistaking him for talking to himself again. He repeated his question.
Arrey kahan se ho tum log?
We still didn’t care. Replying to his question would mean we were to get ready to answer some of the most weird questions we had ever answered.
Mai bass thoda sa out hoon, zyaada nahi piya maine. Tum toh mere bhai jaise ho, kabhi koi problem ho toh turant phone kar dena.
He was getting way too friendly.
Ek kaam karo, tum mera number likh lo, call karna mujhe.
I took out my phone, and entered the number he gave me thinking he may stop bothering us after that.
I nodded to his question.
Yeh number toh aajkal bandh hai, doosra likh lo.
What the fuck? He just made a fool out of me. I took down the other number he gave me. Typing it on my phone and deleting it at that very instant without him knowing. I thought at least now he would stop.
Tumne mujhse naam toh poocha nahi, phir jab phone karoge toh kya bologe? Phone toh mera bhai uthayega.
I didn’t have the answer to his question. I preferred to keep quiet.
Mera naam “kishan” hai. Tumhaara kya hai? Mai ghar jaake apne mobile mei save kar loonga.
I didn’t want to tell my name to a stranger. So I just made up a name, and told him that my name was “Ravi”.
Ab toh humein ek doosre ka naam pata hai, ab toh hum dost hai. Ek dost hi doosre dost ki maddad karta hai, koi bhi problem ho toh mera number ghuma dena. Tum mujhe zaroor call karna.
He continued speaking for the next 15 minutes. We didn’t care, we just ignored him. and he got down from the bus at Palam. We just took him to be a drunkard and didn’t think of him ever after that incident. He was totally out of our mind.
It was totally normal on our part to ignore everything he said. How many of us are there who actually listen to drunk people? None of us.
And yesterday, April 26th, 2010 at 1630 hours, I met that person again. This time in the Delhi Metro. I boarded the train from the Dwarka Mor station. I took the unreserved seat next to the ladies seat. And there he was, a person whose face was at first difficult to recall but then I could totally remember him. He was staring at me. I tried to avoid him and started looking the other way round. He came up to me and took the the seat next to mine.
Definitely I had recognized him, but I refused.
Hum mille the! 764 mei, uss din mai thoda tull tha. Aaj bilkul theek hoon. Aapne mujhe call hi nahi kiya?
Shit! He remembered that I was to call him. So I at once showed that I was happy to meet him.
Agar uss din maine kuch galat bola tha, toh mujhe maaf karna. Zindagi badhi dhokebaaz hai, bahut kuch hua tha mere saath uss din.
Trying to act a little concerned, I asked him what happened that day?
Humaari naukri chali gayi thi. Hum par chori ka jhoota ilzhaam lagaya gaya tha. Bina naukri ke hum apne biwi baccho ki kaise dekhbaal karte. Yeh ameer log kabhi nahi samjhte ek gareeb ko. Hum badhe pareshaan the. Ghar jaane ki himmat nahi tha. In sab ke beech thodi daru chadha li thi. Koi chahiye tha baat karne ke liye, ek bhai jaisa insaan, jo humein samajhta.
And….. I felt like hitting myself on the face, jumping out of the moving train and die. Why did I ignore him? He just wanted someone to talk. A few lines of condolence would have helped him. My heart felt heavy. He introduced me to his family of three, his two children and his wife. The innocence on their faces and an agreement with what all they had, just made me feel awful. He had got his job back and earned five thousand a month now. We talked a little more and then he got down at Janakpuri East. He de-boarded the train asking me to call him at least once. I gave him an assurance that I would, but deep inside I knew I can’t call him even if I want to, I never stored his number.
So moral of the story is, never mistake a drunk person with a thief or douche bag. All of them have a story to tell. If you ever come across a drunk person who starts talking to you, spare out some time and listen to what he has to say. Don’t just ignore them. Someday, you might change someone’s life.