As Fulfilling As Praying

Have you heard this song?

“Ghar se masjid bahut door hai chalo yun kar len,

Kisi rote hue bacche ko hansaya jaye.”

(Meaning in English:

The prayer place is so far away from home,

Let us just make a crying child smile.)

Recently I felt the joy of making a crying child smile. It was Friday. I had just taken my bath. I was about to start my prayers when I heard my next door neighbour’s 7 to 8 years old kid (boy) ringing the bell in his house. A few minutes later, he called, “Mum.” After a few minutes he called her again. Then again and repeatedly thereafter. I thought probably his mother was in the bathroom and would be out soon. While I was about to resume my prayers, I heard his call again! I got curious and concerned and went out.  

He was a cute little kid with a large backpack on his back. He was leaning sideways on the wall. I asked him softly what happened. His eyes were filled with tears. I realised I had to be really soft and tender while dealing with him. We have been living in this house for last seven months but have never spoken. He must not even know who stays in the apartment attached to his home. I acted casual and asked, “Hey, mum’s not opening the door huh?” He wiped his eyes and murmured something. I asked him if we should press the bell again. I did. He was observing me. I asked him if he knew his mother’s mobile number. He gave me a number. He was scared and sad at the same time. He looked so timid. I asked him if he would like to come inside my home and wait with me for his mother. He denied. I went in to bring my mobile phone keeping the door wide open, so that he doesn’t feel miserable again standing alone outside. I dialled the number and introduced myself to the lady who picked it up. I kept the phone on speaker, so that he knows what is going on. Sadly, what he gave me was a wrong number. I was confused. I offered to hold his bag and wait with him outside as it was heavy. He denied. 

Suddenly an idea struck! I asked him if he has his school identity card or the school diary. I knew there I would be able to find some number that worked. He gave me his Student ID Card. It had 2 mobile numbers. From the ID card, I also realised that my next door neighbours are Japanese. I dialled both the numbers and didn’t get any response from both. The numbers kept ringing. However, I repeatedly tried 3 to 4 times and finally one number was received. It was a male voice. I introduced myself and asked him if he was the resident of that particular building. He confirmed with a yes. I told him what was happening and gave the phone to his son. He talked to his father and told him all the details how he came home early (he comes home early on Fridays, he said) and was waiting outside and his mum wasn’t home. His father must have comforted him enough. He gave the phone to me. His father told me that he would call his wife and find out and get back to me in a while. I said, “Excellent. I would wait for your call.” Meanwhile, I started small talks with him. He told me that he has a small brother too. Their bicycles are kept in front of their door. We talked about cycling and who likes what kind of ride etc. We both smiled and laughed. His father called and informed that his mother has entered the building campus (ours is a huge campus with three massive apartment towers) and should be home in a few minutes. I gave the phone to Riki (changed name of the kid) so that he could hear this information from his father himself. We both continued our conversation on bicycles and shared our stories. We even laughed. He still didn’t want to come inside my home. It was fine with me. I could understand his apprehension. So, I waited with him outside for his mother. Ten minutes later his mother came and thanked me. I said it was my pleasure. That day I felt great being there for the kid! It was indeed my pleasure to keep him company. It was as fulfilling as praying to the almighty! #gratitude

The Tune

I saw him today! After listening to him for so long, finally I could spot him. Oh what a relief!

It is amazing how some sites, sounds and smell can transmit you to another time and place instantly! This is what happened when I first listened to this man in this city called Mumbai. The first time I heard him was a Sunday morning. I was preparing my cup of morning tea, when I heard the soothing tune of a flute. I was wondering who it was! The tune took me back to my childhood immediately, when my momma and me used to admire a similar distant playing flute in our comfortable home in Guwahati. 

Every night, after around 8.30 pm when we would ready the dining table for dinner, a melodious flute played somewhere in the background. Unlike now, there were not many houses in the neighbourhood and we always wondered which house the tune emanated from! The tune was so melodious that we would eat without exchanging a single word. In my young mind, I used to even relate that tune to many story book stories that I was so fond of. That tune made my childhood so perfect!

Listening to that tune, the curiosity kept growing bigger and more intense in my mind. My repeated questions to my mom made her enquire on who played that tune. We finally found out. The tune was played by two Bodo labourers who were staying in a small bamboo hut a little far from our home. I was astonished to learn that! Such amazing and melancholic music from such simple people! I asked mother, “They are poor labourers; they spend the whole day slogging outside under the sun, where did they learn it from?” Mother said, “They didn’t learn it from anyone. Such music comes from the heart.” I asked again, “Why would they play the flute at the same time every night?” Mother replied, “They play it post dinner, while they are about to sleep.” Knowing that I would ask her why do they eat so early and almost get ready to sleep when it’s just time for our dinner, mom continued, “They do very hard physical labour. They need enough rest to work again the next day. So, they eat early and go to sleep early too.” I couldn’t be more touched by her statement! Of course, when I heard that as a kid, I didn’t know what to say; I just kept quiet and got lost in my own thoughts.

Now, on the Sunday, when I heard the flute for the first time in Mumbai, I got lost in my childhood memory. I started imagining who that person could be! After sometime, I got busy in the daily chores and the flute playing stopped too! I assumed, maybe he has a Sunday filled with activities and chores too! The next Sunday, I heard that flute again! It made me restless, just like I was in my childhood, when curiosity got the better part of me. But I possibly won’t be able to find out which one of these skyscrapers around it was coming from. I almost gave up hope. But yes, every Sunday, I enjoyed the flute like a routine.

One of my many Balcony Gardens

Today, while watering my pots in the balcony, I heard that flute again! This time, it felt as if it was coming from the road! I tried to spot it manoeuvring my eyes from our fifth floor apartment through the Gulmohar tree below. I could spot him! He is a flute seller! Wearing a white shirt, khaki trousers, he was supporting the huge display of different coloured flutes on his right shoulder while playing the flute. Oh how wonderful the tune was! Unlike my childhood times, when I couldn’t make out the song the Bodo boys played, this time, I could recognize the song. It was a Hindi movie song from the 70s. I could relate many similarities between those Bodo boys and this man. The single remarkable similarity was – their tunes came from the heart, that’s why the tunes were so melodious!

 

Today, (March 17, 2013,) another Sunday, there was a little development to this "Flute Story". Here it goes:

It’s Sunday and I hear that soulful melody again. Every Sunday it reminds me how beautiful life is! Listening to the tune, I could recognise the song the flute seller was playing and I started singing along. While continuing my Sunday chores humming the song along, I got surprised when my partner ;) asked me to get ready with my camera, as the flute seller was coming upstairs! Whoa! I was thrilled. Yes, I always enjoyed the music he played, but never thought of calling him home. (In my opinion, some things are best enjoyed from a distance. When you start knowing it too well, you may not feel as good as you do now. The same rule is applicable to people. Some people are likeable only from a distance. :) )

Well, the doorbell rang and I opened the door. He looked like a simple man. I told him how well he plays and how we enjoy his flute every Sunday. I asked him where he learnt playing the flute. He said that it was self-learnt. He also displayed all the flutes he was carrying to sell. He explained which flute is what and how it was to be played. Displayed his skill by playing different sets of flutes and also gave us to try some. Obviously we do not know how to play the flute. Still, we bought 2 flutes. Apart from the cost of the flutes, we gave him a small gift for playing so well. He was happy. My day was made. :)