Nagpur,
a land of Orange! The story of Nagpur also related to Delhi, Delhi sultanate
and of course, Hyderabad Nizams. Bhakt
Buland initiated Nagpur city after he visited Delhi in the early 18th century
and declared it as his capital. He was the Gond prince of the kingdom of Deogad
in the Chhindwara district. His
successor Chand Sultan continued the work. As happened everywhere after the Chand
Sultan in 1739, the princes fought each other for the throne and Raghuji
Bhonsle, the Maratha governor of Berar, helped to restore the elder son to the
throne. Raghuji Bhonsle camped there and intervened in 1743, and the control of
Nagpur slowly passed on from the Gonds to the Marathas.
However,
my mind was troubling with the image of Nagpur I was getting from the newspaper
reports that it is the head office of some extremist organizations. I was
compelled to stay there a night! I did not know where my hotel room was booked.
When I asked the room, his smiling turned a big laugh and it took two minutes
to slow down, when he finished laughing, in a very low voice, he said, ‘we are
luck, today we booked a huge room with
24 hours electricity’. Therefore, I was happy, but scared, if I stayed that big
room, the amount must be very high. . After few minutes, he turned me again and
said,
‘Mom!
Don’t be worry if say anything’
No.
Not at all.
‘That
huge room I booked is here, with these people!’
He
pointed to the sleeper class waiting room.
The
room was clean, the cleanest place I have ever seen. However, a huge number of
people have already booked each place in that ‘huge room’ with 24-hour electricity. A man was sitting before the room with a register
to check whether we were upper class ticket owners. Moreover, outside of the
room, there were flood of people staying here and there.
‘Now,
we need to keep our luggage in the clock room’, saying this, he went in
searching of a clock room. The security
was very strict, they checked the luggage carefully and gave us token and we
kept the luggage in the clock room. When the heavy luggage from our shoulder
removed, we felt very relieved without any burden. ‘Now we can have something for dinner’. We went outside. There the crowd was moving
aimlessly as if they were paral fish in a stream. Everywhere people packed
largely. I was thinking about myself, ‘A woman who came from a faraway place,
here in a very strange place with her tongue tightened and feet trembling. Her
only proof to believe she is in a Hindi speaking belt was her hand grabbing her
son’s hand’! That thought tightened my hold his hand further. When he felt it,
he turned and asked,
What
happened?
Nothing’
I was thinking a story I learnt in school in my fourth standard about four poor
animal friends’
‘Which
story?’
‘Four
animals, a cow, a mouse, a deer and tortoise, they were good friends, but all
were very much dependents each other, they did not want to miss anybody, and
being helpless and small animals they were scared about everything’
‘I
know that story but why you think the story this time?’
‘Missing
is painful’
‘Don’t
worry, mom!, you know there are millions of people live in our India, and we
are just two drops in this great ocean, I will stay with you always, and there
is no question of missing. Hey mom, he is selling oranges, so we can have some
oranges from him’
We
did not think about the price of orange, because there is saying that if you
want to eat apple from Kashmir, do not go to the shop but go to an apple tree
and collect scattered apples underneath the tree.
We
went and asked that man the price of orange, the price was double of what I
usually got from any shop in Kondotty! ‘What a world!’
We
saw a restaurant there. When I saw the menu, I whispered in his ears,
‘Choru
kittumo?, (Can I have rice?)
However,
my sound was little high, then all people seemed to stare at me, I was afraid
and looked at my son’s face.
He
smiled and explained me.
Mom!
You know we are far far away from our land, nothing will help us now here, our
culture, food, language, dress, bed, house, nothing’
I
agreed, ya, my dress has changed, look! I have never worn a churidaar for
past many many years in my life, but now my dress is churidaar, my Malayalam,
my house, everything I had given up in Kerala!
‘Therefore,
when we were what we were not, then all our meaningful words will produce some
other meaningful words’
He
looked as if a philosophy teacher and I could not understand his words.
‘You
know the word; choru in Hindi means thief, that’s why the hotel cashier
looked at us! You might know the story of two Malyalees who went to a hotel in Delhi’
‘No,
I don’t know’
Once
Two Malayalees went to Delhi to participate in a party conference. When they
were hungry, they went to a restaurant as we did now. They ordered two plates
of poratta, and they did not get curry for sometimes, so one of the person
shouted, chaar (curry in Malayalam), then the next moment, the waiter
brought him four poratta, when seeing this, the other guy signed and said
loudly, ‘che!’ (a sighing sound). The waiter again came with six poratta,
when they got six more poratta, one friend, lost his temper and clamoured
to the other friend, ‘Kazhutha! ivianeyokke ivideunnu aaattanam’ (Donkey! He should be ousted out from here) this
time, with their surprise the waiter came with eight poratta! Again the
other Malayalee was about to say something, then the other guy, pressed his
mouth with his full force and said, don’t say anything, if you say any word,
the waiter will bring you more and more poratta..’
I
enjoyed that joke and kept in silent. He ordered something, and then I realized
I was losing even my rice for at least two weeks. The food was nice and tasty. Night was
darkening more and more, and I saw more people were coming to get a space in each
corner of the street, we walked back to the station, station was packed with the
people, and anyhow I got a seat to sit there. Everywhere people spread their cloths
and started to sleep. he asked me what I usually pray before going to sleep, I
briefed up the prayers I usually do before going to the sleep, then he said to
add one more thing to the prayer,
‘What?’
‘To
not come TTR or checker to the station’
‘But,
why we already have the tickets?
‘We
have the ticket, but we are not allowed to enter the platform before four hours
of the journey, our journey starts at 9.30 tomorrow morning!’,
he continued,
but don’t worry, our journey is not any ordinary trip, we are going to know the
pulse of India, so everything should be welcomed in the journey. Each event
will be an added experience in our journey. This journey is not for any
destination, but it it’s destination is wherever we are led’
I
looked at the people, they are very happy, and everybody has dreams, hopes,
happy, so I also should be part of the sleeping mass beside me’ when a lot of
thoughts flooded in mind, sleep visited my eyes gradually.
(English translation of a travelogue written by Maimoona Rahman KP )
(English translation of a travelogue written by Maimoona Rahman KP )
