Contrary to my expectations, the day was very exhaustive and stressful. I did reach the pension office on time, but there were already a lot of people queuing up for their salaries. Sunil was getting late for his office, so he gave me some money so I could visit Vaidhji and my old friend from Bareli on my way home after collecting my pension. The process was very long and painful, as the crowd kept growing at the office as time went by, and I had to stand in a long line, being squeezed from all sides until I finally made it to the counter.
After collecting my pension, I went straight to visit my old friend Ghanshyam at Bandra. He had written to me from Bareli earlier this month, and had given me the new address where he will spend the rest of his life. The bus journey was a little comforting, as I was promptly given a seat, being old and frail, and because the traffic was light, I made it to his house by 12. Ghanshyam has grown quite old, so I gathered, and Bhabhiji also used a walking stick. They are really nice people, and forced me to take lunch at their place. Ghanshyam lost his brother recently, and since his brother and his son-in-law used to do all the farming, their lands had to be sold and so they shifted to Bombay. His son works in an insurance company now, and has two children. The daughter-in- law is teaching in a nearby school. So we concluded that our stories were nearly the same, collecting monthly pensions and living alone with our dreams all day in the ghostly house. I saw Bhabhiji talking to Ghanshyam all the time, comforting him and giving him medicines, and I just wished if Sunil’s mother had been with me now in my hour of need. My son has no time for me, and his wife stays out of town half of the time attending to her parents in Pune.
Vaidhji was furious today when I told him about my exertions. He did admonish me for having traveled so much today, but also sympathized with me for my lack of support. He has given me a few pills to be taken after every meal for the next three days, and has advised me a complete rest for a week. He said the pain of traveling will soon cripple my body, and I will have to guard against further exertions until I feel fully fit again. Having worked in the police for over thirty years, I have a natural appetite for traveling and exertions, and the same mindset still prevails today. The ten- kilometer walk every evening has still kept me somewhat fit, but I believe my body has started yielding a bit. For a eighty- four year old, this sure is food for thought.
As had been advised by Vaidhji, I cooked some rice for myself and had it with plain daal and some achar. It felt good to have steamy rice after a long week, as somebody had advised me not to have much rice, as it caused digestion problems sometimes. The afternoon siesta was very relaxing, more so as I had to rest after the early morning rush. I do sound like a hypochondriac, but it would be better if I take care of myself rather than leaving it to Sunil, who kept me admitted to the local Civil hospital for five days after I suffered from a chronic indigestion last summer. The hospital was crowded and dirty, and the food was appalling, which aggravated my ailment. Finally, it was at my brother’s home in Vasai that I could recuperate and had a month’s rest before I traveled back home. I won’t blame it on Sunil, though. The poor boy has to work for twelve hours a day and then picks up his son from school, and does all the shopping everyday. Even when he is forced to take leaves for social obligations, he has to work overtime during the rest of the week to cover up the time lost. Same is the case with Ghanshyam’s son. These days the working people do not have time for anything. I remember how traumatic it was for Sunil in March when he had to go to office everyday amid high fever.
It was around 4, when my grandson returned from school. Sunil dropped him home before leaving for office again.
‘Hi Dadu.’
‘Kaisa hai beta?’
‘Theek hu’ he said, resigned to the fact that he had to answer the same question everyday. He took his late lunch, got dressed in half pant and a tee shirt, and rushed out to play football in the nearby school ground.
Kavita, my daughter-in-law returned home at 6, after participating in the Colony’s ladies club meet. She looked terribly tired, and since I had nothing to do, I boiled a cup of tea for her. Apart from teaching in a school, she takes tuitions and also acts as a member to some clubs. A maid comes in every evening who cooks the dinner and the next morning’s breakfast before stuffing them in the fridge. When I was newly married, I remember I got posted the very next year to Bilaspur, which was far away. But I had to leave alone with my belongings, as my wife had to stay back to cook and to take care of my parents. Those three years in Bilaspur were quite lonely and painful, but at least my parents were being taken care of was a consolation. I expect a lot from my son and the rest of the family in those lines. Sunil says the fact that he is able to buy a place for himself in Bombay and to afford to run his family and father is a big achievement in itself. He must be right. The new flat where we are staying currently in cost him some fifteen lakhs two years back. He says the price has gone up to 22 lakhs these days. All these high prices scare me a lot, as we knew how to manage an entire month with salaries no more than two hundred rupees in the 1950s. My walking stick cost me Rs. 250 in the market, and nearly too away a quarter of my pension allowance for the month. I never intended to buy it, but my grandson said I looked good with it. He also suggested that I should buy the new designer sunglasses that would look ‘really cool’ on my face. I am not much used to wearing glasses, but in this month of June, it’s getting warmer every day. Maybe I might buy it next month or so.
My grandson says I can type diary accounts in the computer. He says he can ‘save’ whatever is written there, and that it will never get lost or damaged. He says I need not spend on pens and new diaries every month, as the computer can easily store thousands of pages in itself without the risks of the pages being torn or lost in the process. He says it is very easy and he could teach me the same in a very short time. I wonder if what he says is correct, because the computer hardly covers his study table, and I don’t see any paper being put in it, like in a typewriter. So where does the whole thing get typed out is still a puzzle for me. I think I am really comfortable with my ball pen and diary, but will soon clear my curiosity about the computer. The other day, my grandson was playing a game in his computer in which I saw there was a big gun which was shooting at approaching people. When I protested, Kavita and Pranay, my grandson, roared with laughter. I wonder what kind of a monster the computer is. I think I should better stay away unless these people force me to shoot people just like that some day.
I think its time for dinner now. The smell of the chapattis here is so different from our chakki atta in village. The rotis are very thin, and ghee is really expensive, so I have lost interest in eating these days. Anyways, I don’t have much of a choice right now.
Jai Shankar baba ki.
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