The travelogue starts at Mannar & Co. “Jaggu, You are leaving to Mumbai tonight. You need to report at Dahisar Materials Co, tomorrow morning. You will be there for a month to collect the scrap materials. Collect your tickets and guest house details from admin department” Jaggu’s manager issued orders before he went out of office. Jaggu knew it was his ‘single tea & masal vadai’ time.

Jaggu was summoned by the admin team. He was so excited when he received his travel tickets. It was his first airplane visit.

Jaggu used to tell his friend Tingu multiple times, “When will we fly in airplane?”, when they returned from the Andhra mess after their tummy-tearing-lunch. Tingu used to pacify him “What’s wrong with our Pallavan express and Karaikudi passenger. They have attached toilet also.. That is enough for us, da”.

“hmm.. Will the pilot open the toilet waste d?”.

Jaggu used to get clarified by his philosopher Tingu.

As Jaggu was not sure if it was a genuine reply or a parody, he kept quiet and walked silently to their bachelor’s paradise.

“So what, if they open it, it will be at the size of paneer (rose water) drop. We may nod our head to agree to it, as if we accept paneer spray” answered Tingu.

It was a quarter past five. Jaggu was still roaming around the rusted iron bars.

His colleague Gundu Mani shouted at him “Jagguu, What time is your flight?”

“9”

“Then, what are you doing here with your dirty uniform. You should be in airport at least one or two hours before.”

“Is it so?”

“Jaggu, don’t be a makku*. You need few hours to go back home and pack your luggage. You need to leave now”. Gundu Mani was like that. He will try to portray himself as a wise man by calling others a makku at a gathering. But at that time, it was a valid alert.

Jaggu packed his lunch box and inserted it into his wire-basket.  He was on his way on his BSA cycle already. His wire-basket was hanging on his handle-bar.

* makku – fool.

***

Jaggu was copying, what his co-passenger did. Was it what he did during his board exams! He had just arrived at the domestic terminus of Chennai fifteen minutes ago by local train. He was munching a groundnut packet, when the train entered Trissulam station. When he aligned his shoulder bag on one side and the luggage on the other side, the groundnuts jumped out and scattered on the floor.

Boarding the plane, occupying a window seat, sitting near a Mumbai-based entrepreneur and gossiping with her in butler English all the way until Mumbai are all irrelevant to this travelogue! It was a full moon day. With a talkative girl by his side and the moon splashing through the glass window, that evening should have been his memorable one. But his heart was pumping hard, as if he were vaccinated with mRNA covid19 drug. Because he should find his residence, take a nap, and report to the company the next morning. He was not sure if he could manage well. Because of his 0 knowledge with HINDI!

***

When he came out of the airport, he felt – like a car that ran out of gas – emotionally. Later he understood, it was a unique flavor of our Indian airports. Whenever we come out of Indian railway stations and airports, we may feel like somebody pushed us outside the safety circle into a jungle of cheats and touts. Getting bullied by the union members of taxi drivers and auto drivers is part of our national heritage, too.

Well, there was a black and yellow taxi. Jaggu saw Super Star Rajinikanth driving these kind of taxis in his 80’s movie ‘Padikathavan‘. The driver read his address slip and said, “I know”. In addition to the driver, he had a teenager beside. It was over 12 midnight! The place looked deserted like an empty Goshala. He hoped he could rely on that driver. He had no other choices as well.

Jaggu looked at the highway sign boards carefully and tried to memorize them. In case, if there was a fight and the driver left him stranded on the highway, he needs some signs to recall his way back. Yes. He used to think like 007 often. Such a great idea! It looked to be the highway to Gujarat. ‘Who the hell is he? He is driving so far. The highway looks like an anaconda. Will he drop me in Gujarat?’ He was anxious about his taxi driver.

Jaggy lost his patience and asked is driver “How much time will it take, Bhaiya?”. Bhaiya, Beti, Didi are the few Hindi words he learnt from Hindi movies. It was amazing. He is able to learn such words, apart from worshiping his dream girl Kajol.

He replied Jaggu in some language – Was it Marathi or Hindi? How does it make a difference for Jaggu, who doesn’t know both.

He could not appreciate Mumbai’s gloomy night and gleamy highway sign boards. The reliable driver from Mumbai dropped him at the guest house at 1am. Jaggu was grateful to him. Borivali is 16 kilometers from Santa Cruz! Not all taxi/auto drivers are righteous like him.

***

Jaggu rented an auto-rickshaw to go to the company the next day. Soon he started reading Hindi letters on Mumbai’s public transport. What would a Dravidian fanatic think about a Tamilian who is reading Hindi? Whatever, he had started to spell Bo-Ri-Va-Li.. then Dha-hi-sa-r. When he was so proud of himself for his half-pedal Hindi, something crashed his ego brutally. He boarded into West Borivali bus instead of the East.

What else could he do? He got off in half way and lingered while blaming his fate. When we are happy, we boost our ego. When it is not, we say it is our fate. How selfish we were.

But that’s where Ganpati Bappa kept a twist in his screenplay! He came across a local Travels in the middle of his walk-back to Borivali East. He eagerly booked for the Mumbai local trip. It was his weekend plan! If Tingu was there, he would have reiterated his philosophy “Nothing will move without His wish”!

***

That was of the type of “Look here. This is Marina Beach. There will be a sea”. But there was no better way to get acquainted with the city. A ‘divine chariot’ in green color started from Borivali East before the sun rose, went straight to India Gate, and continued its journey to Siddhi Vinayagar Temple, Mahalakshmi Mandir, Malabar Hill, Wankhede Stadium, Marine Drive, Juhu Beach.

Co-passengers are from different states of India. The bus was like a kadhambam garland (a mix of different types of flowers and leaves). Yes, that’s the color of India.

A Gujarati man was sitting beside Jaggu. They are all of the same age.

He yearned “South Indians have embraced English and advanced in information technology. Hindi is not a bar for them. Look at the North Indians. They still follow Hindi and pull us back”.

Jaggu responded to him “It was a political decision at that time. The decision was pushed by the political party. Even if there was Hindi, we would have mastered it as well. Situation is different now. The quality of Government school education is degrading day by day, private sectors are embracing CBSE. Hindi will enter anyway. But will it make any difference, I do not know. Future may be with English. Neither Tamil nor Hindi”.

He agreed “It may be. But pushing the language is useless. They can not succeed.”

Jaggu winked while saying “But that’s what China did. We criticize India while pointing at the rise of China. Are we ready to make similar sacrifices made by Chinese?”. The discussion ended when the bus stopped at Mahalakshmi Mandir.

It was post noon time. Jaggu went inside a tea shop as he felt hungry. He met two Coimbatoreans there! Chatting in a Tea shop is a ‘Tamil-national-heritage’, isn’t it? They had a quick discussion before they departed – a hi and a bye!

The sunset at Juhu beach blessed all of us before we retreated to Borivali.

I’m participating in #BlogchatterA2Z 2022 with theme Yātum ūrē!